Take Me As I Am Season 3
by JewWitch
Summary: The continued adventures of Quinn & Rachel as the starring couple of Glee. Some integration of canon events, but mostly this is the story of Faberry and their world! Klaine & Brittana co-star in supporting roles.
1. The Pink Punk Project

Hey Faberry fans, welcome to a new season of Take Me As I Am! For anyone joining us who hasn't read the first two seasons of my Faberry epic, all you really need to know is that reading this story is a lot like just watching the show with Faberry as canon...but it's not a straight re-telling of the episodes, I just like to incorporate stuff from the show as much as possible into my Faberry-centered world. Some chaps will be rated M, but they will all be appropriately labeled. Buckle up and enjoy the ride, kids!

-JW

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 1: The Pink Punk Project**

**By JewWitch**

…...

When Rachel and Kurt came home from Summerstock at the end of August, their planners had been completely filled out through age 40; with tabs for career, family and geographical trajectories (relocation to New York of course, followed by legal marriage to their respective high school sweethearts; then for Rachel, 2 kids, a brownstone on West End and a rich career on the stage followed by a tasteful HBO miniseries; for Kurt, one perfect child, a killer loft in Soho, and a starring role in the first all-male Broadway revival of Jesus Christ Superstar).

To put it mildly, they were excited. For next year, for the beginning of what felt like the journey they'd been patiently waiting for all their lives; for a newer and bigger world. They weren't worried about school or their senior year at all. Obviously, it was going to be magical. They had color-tabbed planners to make sure of that.

"Who's picking you up? Quinn or your dads?" Kurt asked as they traipsed off the plane with their perfectly matched Vera Bradley carry-ons.

"Dads. Quinn said she was busy but she'll call me tonight. What about you, Velma? Will Mr. Tall Drink of Water be waiting at the security checkpoint with flowers and chocolates?"

"Okay, first of all, you are _so_ Velma. Hello, Catherine Zeta-Jones? You'll be played by Rachel Berry. Oh, you approve? Good, then I will _obviously_ be Renée Zellweger."

"Meow," Rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Yes dear, you can be Roxy. Evading much?"

"I am not evading," Kurt smirked back, his fair cheeks warming with an obvious blush. Rachel turned to follow Kurt's gaze, seeing Blaine leaning up against a wall just past the checkpoint with a single red rose in his hands, beaming straight at Kurt. Rachel felt a slight pang at the sight, wishing Quinn were there to give her the same I-missed-you-so-much look of soppy adoration; but she quickly shook it off, reminding herself that Kurt was her best friend and she wanted his boyfriend to treat him well. And she'd get her _own_ soppy reunion soon enough, in private where she wouldn't have to monitor herself for inappropriate public displays.

"Hey you," Blaine said when the two travelers crossed through the checkpoint and met him on the other side. Kurt just beamed shyly, not saying a word, and Blaine leaned in and gave him a soft peck on the lips, grabbing the shorter boy's carry-on bag and hoisting it over his own shoulder.

"Well hel_lo,_ sailor," Kurt sighed happily, reaching out and twining his fingers with Blaine as they walked to the baggage claim.

"Hello, Miss Adelaide," Blaine teased, squeezing Kurt's fingers and blushing right back. Then he glanced past Kurt and added, "Hey Rachel. Welcome back."

"Thank you Blaine, it's lovely to see you as well. Did you have a good summer?" The three teens chatted amicably as they made their way down to the baggage check, where Rachel's dads were waiting with hugs and kisses for their precious only child. Jacob teared up a little and proclaimed that this was the beginning of the end, his little girl was all grown up now and soon she'd be leaving them for good; his husband tried not to roll his eyes too obviously as he said "Okay, Tevya," and patted him consolingly on the back.

Rachel texted Quinn _I'm home! _as soon as they got in the car, and was mildly irked when they pulled into their driveway 40 minutes later and the blonde girl still hadn't responded. _Don't be so high maintenance, she's probably just at the gym with Santana_, Rachel told herself firmly, confident that Quinn would call soon.

Finally, Rachel got a text from Quinn as she was finishing dinner with her dads, that just said _wanna come over?_The little diva was starting to feel slightly miffed at her girlfriend's underwhelming response to her homecoming after being apart all summer, but again she decided to reserve judgement and just go over to Quinn's. Once she got there, and she was in her angel's arms again, she knew she'd feel the emotion and connection she'd been missing all summer. She gave her dads a kiss and hopped in her new (well, not _new _new, but new to her) car and headed to the Fabrays' with all the windows down, singing along absentmindedly to Adele in the warm evening air.

When the front door opened and the former blonde cheerleader stood in front of her, Rachel was temporarily stunned into silence. She just stood there with her mouth hanging open, her big brown eyes growing wider by the second as she stared at the pink-haired stranger in front of her. It wasn't just that Quinn had dyed her hair; it was like she'd had an angry punk makeover, complete with grungy, ripped black clothes, chunk silver chains around her wrists and neck, heavy-handed dark eyeliner, and a nose ring.

But it was more than just her clothes and hair; the girl inside them looked different, too. There was something in her eyes, something Rachel couldn't quite put her finger on; but it made the dark-haired starlet feel slightly sick and heavy in the pit of her stomach. Her sweet angel, her Quinn, just looked so sad; and somehow far away, like she'd withdrawn into the shell she'd crafted and locked the doors behind her.

The dark-haired starlet wanted to throw her arms around her baby and hug her and kiss her until the warmth came back into her eyes; but instead she just said, "Please tell me that's a fake nose ring, and you haven't actually started poking holes in your face while I was gone." Quinn just smirked cooly, cocking an eyebrow as she leaned against the doorway to allow Rachel passage into the house.

"You wanted to cut your nose _off_. This is some pretty modest bod mod by comparison, don't you think?"

_"Bod mod?"_ Rachel asked in alarm, keeping her eyes locked on Quinn as the pink-haired girl closed the door behind her and smiled in apparent amusement at her totally thunderstruck expression. "Quinn, what...what _happened _to you? Why didn't you tell me? Are you all right?"

"Why, because I don't look like the perfect little Catholic schoolgirl anymore, something has to be wrong? You're not gonna have a very good time in New York if you're this uptight, Rach," Quinn shrugged, turning and padding up the stairs to her room with her confused girlfriend hot on her trail.

"No, something doesn't _have _to be wrong," Rachel said slowly, closing Quinn's bedroom door behind her and trying not to goggle any harder when her girlfriend sat beside the open window and lit a cigarette. "But you don't seem at all like yourself right now, and I'm just trying to understand." It took all of Rachel's discipline not to march across the room and yank the cigarette from her girlfriend's lips.

"Yeah, that makes two of us," Quinn snorted sardonically. Rachel raised both eyebrows anxiously. Quinn sighed and shook her head, staring out the window as she tapped her ashes into the night sky. "Look, Rach, I know you mean well, but how can you really know whether I seem like myself?_ I _don't even know. I've been playing a part my whole life, of the perfect Catholic schoolgirl my father wanted...even after Beth, and us, and everything. I was still trying to be that person, and I never even knew if it was really me. And now he's gone, and I don't have to pretend anymore...and you know what? It feels amazing. I can do whatever I want, be whoever I want. I'm sorry if that's not in your 50-year life plan, but I really need to figure some things out for myself right now, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel nodded slowly, feeling a little like crying though she wasn't sure why. "But, I mean...you still want _me_, right?" Quinn cocked her head to the side and smiled a little sadly, and Rachel saw the first flash of the sweet girl she loved shining through.

"Yeah, baby. I said I need to figure _myself _out, not you. Can you stick around while I do that?" Quinn looked up at Rachel then, with that same sadness and vulnerability etched across her features, making her look a little like a grungy lost puppy. Rachel's heart gave another sharp pang.

"Of course I can do that," the dark-haired girl agreed warmly, crossing the room to curl up in her girlfriend's lap, cupping a hand to her cheek and giving her a soft, tender kiss. Her breath tasted like smoke, sharp and sweet. "I missed you, Quinn."

"I missed you too, starlight," Quinn murmured huskily against Rachel's lips, kissing her a little roughly and nudging her back against the bed. Rachel went willingly, her hands sweeping through her girlfriend's tousled pink hair, which felt rougher and drier than the silky blonde locks Rachel had always loved. But that was okay. Quinn was still Quinn, her hands and lips on Rachel's skin as they undressed each other were as gentle and loving as ever. If she was a little lost right now, and needed to find her own way, Rachel would keep a candle in the window for as long as it took for her baby to find her way home.

…...

The first day of school came quickly, and Rachel tried not to let her disappointment show too much when Quinn said she wouldn't be picking her up in the mornings anymore now that they both had their own cars. When she saw Kurt in his back-to-school best in the parking lot, and they were both immediately accosted by Jacob Ben-Israel and his microphone like paparazzi on the press line, her spirits were lifted and her mind stayed focused on her own immediate plans for the rest of the day. They visited the guidance counselor's office for information about performing arts colleges at lunch, and when they discovered a local mixer for prospective Julliard students, they spent their free period that afternoon perfecting a jazzy Wizard of Oz duet in the auditorium. It was only when they got to glee rehearsal that Rachel realized Quinn was nowhere in sight.

"Has anyone seen Quinn?" Mr. Schue asked as they all settled into their seats, as if reading Rachel's mind.

"Yeah, we saw her in desperate need of a bar of soap and a bottle of peroxide under the bleachers," Santana rolled her eyes, while Brittany nodded sadly in agreement. "She was smoking with the Skanks. We tried to slap some sense into her, but it was a no-go. What the fuck did you _do _to her over the summer, Thumbelina?"

"Language, Santana," Mr. Schue warned, but he looked to Rachel with equal concern in his eyes, along with the rest of the club.

"I didn't do anything," Rachel said indignantly. "I wasn't even here. Quinn's just going through a rough time right now, and she's still processing her feelings about her father's untimely death. What she needs right now is for her friends to show her that we love and accept her while she finds her own way. I'm sure we can all understand that, can't we?"

"So you're seriously okay with her dropping out of glee?" Santana asked skeptically, raising one eyebrow as she sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Quinn is _not _dropping out of glee," Rachel shook her head stubbornly. "I'm sure she's just mistaken our rehearsal time. I'll go find her right now."

"Rachel, we actually kind of need you in here for right now..." Mr. Schue trailed off ineffectually as the tiny diva jumped up from her chair and strode purposefully from the room.

She found Quinn right where Santana had said, under the bleachers, smoking again with a group of equally angry-looking girls whom Rachel had never addressed directly. All of them turned to stare with undisguised hostility when the tiny brunette approached.

"Hi Quinn," Rachel smiled tentatively, sensing that her girlfriend would not appreciate being called _honey_ or _baby_ or _sunshine_ in front of her gruff new friends. It gave the dark-haired girl another sharp pang to hold in her usual displays of affection for the girl she loved; but she was on a mission right now, and she wasn't going to be derailed by any personal concerns. "So, um...it's time for glee rehearsal. Are you coming?"

"Your friend stinks of soap, Quinn," one girl in a leather S&M motorcycle cap snarled.

"I'll give you ten bucks if you let me beat her up," another equally leather-clad girl smirked dangerously, leaning up against a metal column beside Quinn with a teasing, predatory look in her eye that was almost flirty.

Rachel nearly lost sight of her mission and told the girl to get the _hell _away from her baby before Quinn stepped in and said, "Back off, Mac, that's my girlfriend. Touch her and I will end you." It was oddly thrilling (and maybe just a little bit sexy) to see the way the other girls responded to Quinn's threat, all of them looking back at Rachel with undisguised contempt, but also with respect. Clearly, they weren't going to cross Quinn Fabray, and that gave Rachel some peace of mind. Some, but not a lot, because the look Quinn was giving her now was the same distant look she'd had all week, hollow and vacant, like she wasn't really there.

"I didn't forget what time glee rehearsal is, Rachel. I'm not coming back. You said you understood. I have to figure things out on my own right now."

"I didn't think that meant you were quitting glee!" Rachel exclaimed, feeling the tears well up in her eyes thought she tried to stop them, knowing it wouldn't do her any good in this crowd. "The team needs you, Quinn, we're a family. We need your tremulous alto and your Belinda Carlisle glamour. And you need the music, too. You need an outlet for all the painful emotions you're struggling with right now. Don't you see how lost we'll be without you?"

"That's not my problem, Rachel," Quinn said with a sad shake of her head, taking a slow drag on her cigarette and blowing smoke rings into the air. "I'm sorry it's hard for you to hear that, but I've been thinking about what everyone else needs my whole life. I have to figure out what _I _need right now, and that's not something you or the glee club can do for me. Please, Rach, just leave me be for once." Rachel closed her eyes, hastily wiping away the tears that streaked down her face, and sniffled softly.

"I...I'll try. But I can't stop wanting you back on stage with me, Quinn. We'd love to have you back in glee...whenever you're ready. Okay?" Quinn nodded, smiling sadly; and Rachel used every ounce of her willpower to turn her back on the pained hazel eyes she loved, and walk back to glee rehearsal alone.

She didn't see Quinn sneak into the auditorium, watching them rehearse from the shadows, every afternoon that week.

_...to be continued!_


	2. Shakespeare in Love

Hey gleeks!

I hope you'll all enjoy this chapter; it was especially satisfying to write, because as I'm sure you'll all agree, this week's episode (while awesome on the whole) took some really disappointing turns for Quinn. I find it _really_ unrealistic that Quinn would so easily fall back into her old role as Sue's bitch the way she did, and I find it even more unrealistic to think she'd willingly take Sue's side to betray the glee club after everything she's been through. I feel like they're deliberately keeping her a bitch so there will be more conflict on the show at this point. So here's how I would've written it! Enjoy :)

-JW

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 2: Shakespeare in Love**

…...

It was the third day of school when Sue Sylvester approached Quinn in the girls' bathroom. The tall, imposing woman marched straight up to her former head cheerleader and wrenched the lit cigarette from between her lips. Quinn just raised an eyebrow impassively, knowing that she was in for an earful from her former tormentor, but no longer anxious about pleasing her one way or the other.

"Q, I look at you and I'm stunned. When you were in my grasp, you were at the top of the pyramid. Then you joined the glee club, and look where it's gotten you. You've lost everything. What if I were the offer you the chance to get revenge on the glee club, _and_ become a star? I want to make you the poster girl for my new congressional campaign commercial. Your tragic tale of addiction and destruction by the glee club and one Will Schuester will be the cornerstone of my anti-arts campaign platform, and between us we'll crush that decrepit fungus of a club forever. What do you say, Courtney Love?"

Quinn just blinked at her former coach incredulously, and then, with a thrilling rush of adrenalin, she realized she was completely free to speak her mind now- Sue Sylvester held no sway over her, because she had nothing to offer that Quinn wanted. She made no effort to hide her disdain as she looked up into the older woman's cocky face.

"_Kiss _my _ass_," Quinn growled in a low, dangerous voice. "The fact that you would even _ask _me to do _you_ a favor after all the sadistic bullshit you put me through on the Cheerios, let alone one that hurts the glee club, proves you're just as crazy as you are cruel. What on _earth_ makes you think I'd help you? Are you seriously that deluded?"

"I take back what I said last year," Sue said coolly. "You no longer remind me of a young Sue Sylvester, you whiny little bohemian degenerate. I would've thought you'd relish the chance to punish that fruity little glee club for the way they've ruined you."

"Are you _serious?"_ Quinn yelled, beginning to lose her cool as she felt her cheeks flushing and her whole face heating up. "First of all, Coach Sylvester, I am not _ruined._ I realize anything that doesn't fit the mold of Sports Illustrated goes straight in the garbage in your world, but not everyone is so threatened by the idea of exploring different paths in life. Secondly, I never would've even had the courage to ask those hard questions, or trust myself enough to try something different, if not for the glee club. They're the only ones in this school who have always accepted me for who I am- _all _of who I am. I'm not about to stab them in the back to make _your_ life easier. They're my family."

"So, Junior Pink, why did you quit?" Sue demanded, looking flustered and outraged at not getting her way. Quinn just blinked at her, not saying a word, for a long minute. Then she turned and walked out of the bathroom. "Hey! I'm not done with you, Fabray!" She heard Sue yelling behind her; but she didn't turn around.

Rachel, meanwhile, was channeling all her anxious energy about Quinn, their relationship, college applications and making it all the way in glee this year, and putting it all into her audition for the school musical. She and Kurt spent every free minute in the auditorium together, perfecting their audition numbers and giving each other notes, so focused on their work that they realized abruptly they were about to be late for glee. They grabbed their stuff and ran to the choir room, panting and breathless, and for the first time ever they were the last two to take their seats as Mr. Schue began to talk them through their assignment for the following week. Rachel was only half paying attention, smoothing her skirt and pulling out her notebook, when she realized that the room had just gone completely silent. Confused, she finally raised her head- and saw that Quinn was standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind her back, smiling nervously.

"Hey guys," the blonde girl said softly. Only a few streaks of pink were left in her shaggy chin-length hair; the rest had been returned to its natural golden blonde. Her face was clean and fresh, without a hint of makeup save a coat of tinted gloss on her lips. The ripped up all-black clothes were gone too, replaced with a pair of faded, comfy-looking grey corduroys, a long-sleeved _Gotham Girls Roller Derby_ t-shirt that Rachel had bought for her in New York last spring, and a puffy down-filled sleeveless jacket with a fake-fur lined hood.

She looked comfortable in her skin, in a way she never really had before; and though she was obviously nervous with the entire glee club staring at her, there was, to Rachel, a sense of tranquility radiating from the blonde girl. They looked at each other then, hazel eyes locking on brown, and they both smiled shyly. Rachel noticed that the nose ring was gone; and that the skin underneath was whole and unmarked. It hadn't been real, after all; just a clip on. This realization brought Rachel an inexplicable rush of happiness and comfort.

"What can we do for you, Miss Fabray?" Mr. Schuester asked a little stiffly, obviously wary of Quinn's motives and intentions after her abrupt defection from the club. Quinn took a few tentative steps into the room, making sure to look each person in the eye before she spoke.

"So, I've been thinking a lot...and I want to come back to glee, if you'll have me. I'm sorry I punked out, guys. I just got kind of stuck in my head for a while after my dad died, and I thought I needed time alone...but then I realized that putting all my energy into trying to figure out what would make me happy, was keeping me from one of the only things that actually _did _make me happy." She grinned sheepishly, and a ripple of gentle laughter passed through the room. Quinn looked up at Mr. Schue, biting her lip nervously.

"Welcome back, Quinn," he smiled warmly, squeezing her shoulder with a nod of acknowledgement. The room burst into a frenzy of cheering, and half the club jumped up and ran to hug their newly returned friend. Quinn laughed in heady relief, hugging them all in turn, until only Rachel was left standing in front of her.

"Are we okay?" Quinn asked quietly, reaching out and lacing her fingers with Rachel's.

"More than okay," Rachel beamed, running her fingers through her girlfriend's shaggy pink-streaked hair, and kissing her soundly. The rest of the club oohed and hooted appreciatively, until the two girls broke apart giggling, and beamed at each other.

"Well now that we've got our whole team together again, I think it's time to get down to business," Mr. Schue said, cracking his knuckles as he walked back to the front of the room.

"Uh, Mr. Schue?" Rachel raised her hand tentatively. "If it's all right, there's something I've been working on by myself this week that I'd like to perform...for Quinn. It was going to be a _please come back to glee_ song, but now I guess it's a _thank you for coming back to glee_ song. I think it's still appropriate, regardless."

"Great, Rachel, let's hear it." The dark-haired girl nodded, smiling shyly as she got up and went to stand beside the piano, handing her sheet music to Brad as Quinn took a seat in the front row between Mercedes and Santana. As the music started, the blonde girl quickly recognized the song, and a soft smile of recognition lit up her face.

_When you try your best, but you don't succeed  
>When you get what you want, but not what you need<br>When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
>Stuck in reverse<em>

_And the tears come streaming down your face  
>When you lose something you can't replace<br>When you love someone, but it goes to waste  
>Could it be worse?<em>

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you_

The entire room was transfixed by Rachel's soulful voice, softer than her usual Broadway showboat style, but achingly beautiful as it brimmed with raw emotion. Next to Quinn, Santana was cuddling up to Brittany and lacing their fingers together; and behind her, Blaine was reaching out and squeezing her shoulder in gentle affirmation. But Quinn might as well have had blinders on to everyone in the room but Rachel. All she saw was her girlfriend, pouring her heart out, showing Quinn the only way she knew how that she was loved, and she was safe. And the wayward blonde knew in every fiber of her being that it was true.

_And high up above or down below  
>When you're too in love to let it go<br>But if you never try you'll never know  
>Just what you're worth<em>

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you_

_Tears stream down on your face  
>When you lose something you cannot replace<br>Tears stream down on your face  
>And I...<em>

_Tears stream down on your face  
>I promise you I will learn from my mistakes<br>Tears stream down on your face  
>And I...<em>

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try...to fix you. _

When Rachel finished, the entire room burst into applause, and Quinn was crying openly. "Welcome home," Rachel said simply, a few tears streaking down her cheeks, too. Quinn jumped up and kissed her soundly beside the piano. And just like that, The New Directions were complete again.

…...

That night Quinn had dinner at the Berry's house, and Jacob and Michael (who hadn't yet seen any version of pink-haired Quinn) couldn't stop complimenting the blonde girl on her new look. Like Rachel, they seemed to sense that the Quinn sitting across from them now was more at home in her skin, more relaxed, and more at peace than she ever had been in her Cheerios uniform, or the church-approved dresses and cardigans she'd always worn without question. Rachel couldn't stop smiling over her plate of sesame tofu stir-fry as she watched her dads banter affectionately with her girlfriend, feeling the missing piece of her heart clicking effortlessly back into place.

When dinner was over and all the dishes were cleared, Quinn and Rachel went upstairs to do their homework together, falling back into their comfortable school night routine fairly effortlessly as they studied side-by-side on Rachel's canopy bed.

"Hey Rach?" Quinn asked quietly, looking up from her AP Biology textbook with an uncertain expression, that told Rachel clearly she had a question she was perhaps a little nervous to ask.

"Yeah, babe?" Rachel smiled softly, still floating on a cloud of euphoria.

"Are you and your dads going to temple next week for Rosh Hashana?"

"I assume so," Rachel shrugged, closing her History textbook and leaning up on one elbow and raising an eyebrow curiously. "Why, you wanna come?"

"Yeah, I do," Quinn nodded shyly. "If you think it would be okay with your dads, I mean."

"Oh, Quinnie...I think that would be wonderful," Rachel beamed, reaching out and tucking a lock of pink hair back behind her girlfriend's ear. Quinn nodded, smiling softly; but her eyes were slowly filling up with tears. "Honey? What's wrong?" Rachel asked gently, trailing her fingers up and down Quinn's arm.

"I've been...thinking about Beth a lot more, ever since my dad died. Sometimes I have nightmares, and I wake up thinking she's crying for me." Quinn's voice began to tremble, and a few tears spilled over and rolled down her porcelain cheeks. Rachel wiped one away with her thumb, but didn't interrupt, sensing that her girlfriend was struggling to say what she needed to say, and that if she stopped, she might not start again.

"I never realized how much power my dad still had over me, even after he walked out of our lives, until he died. It was like this huge, heavy rock had been on my shoulders all my life, weighing me down, and I never even noticed it was there until it was gone. Like, _really_ gone. And I just started to have this awful feeling...that I made the wrong decision. About giving her up." Rachel didn't say a word as Quinn struggled to admit her deepest fears; she just scooted closer to the sniffling blonde girl on the bed, wrapping an arm securely around her waist and slipping a hand up the back of her shirt, keeping her grounded with the warm, solid skin-on-skin contact. Finally Quinn broke down and sobbed, burying her face in Rachel's neck.

"Sweet angel...no wonder you've been so sad," Rachel cooed, holding her shaking girlfriend a little tighter. "Why didn't you tell me? I can't stand to think about you struggling with this all alone. Didn't you think I'd understand?" Quinn sniffled and wiped her eyes, looking down guiltily.

"No, that's not it Rach. I just didn't think it would be fair to you...when you were the one who wanted to keep her in the first place. I didn't want to burden you, or torment you with what could've been. I'm so sorry, starlight..." Quinn started to cry in earnest then, letting out all the pain that had been stewing inside her all summer. Rachel held her fiercely, rubbing her back and cooing softly to her, until her jagged tears slowed to soft sniffles. After a few minutes, Rachel sat up and reached for the tissues from the bedside table, patiently waiting while Quinn wiped her eyes and nose.

"Better?" The dark-haired girl asked softly. Quinn took a deep breath, and nodded. "Listen to me, Quinn. I know you were raised with a lot of mind games and a lot of Catholic guilt, but that's not how our life together is going to be. You do _not _have to _earn_ the right to your feelings, do you understand? Even if it's something you think will be scary or hard for me to hear...because nothing could ever be scarier or harder than feeling like you're shutting me out. Please, don't _ever _think you have to hide how you're feeling from me, and I promise I'll never hide my feelings from you. Okay?"

"Okay," Quinn nodded, sighing with an incredulous half-smile.

"Good. And as far as Beth goes...you know she's always going to have you in her life. I know it's not the same as if we'd kept her, but you made the right decision, Quinn. Even though it tore you apart. You gave her the best life she could have, even knowing it would be with someone else. It's okay to feel sad for what you gave up...feeling sad doesn't have to mean you made the wrong decision. You're allowed to have whatever feelings you have, whether or not it's fair or logical or appropriate. Your feelings are what they are. And keeping that pain inside...that's not going to help you feel better, love. You just have to talk to me, okay? I promise I will always listen, and I will never, _ever _judge you." With that pronouncement, she leaned in and kissed the tip of Quinn's nose. The blonde girl smiled shyly.

"I still don't know what I ever did to deserve you, Rachel Barbra Berry."

"Well I do," Rachel said coyly, with a shy half-smile of her own. Quinn raised her eyebrow in question. "You let me love you," Rachel shrugged.

They didn't do any more homework that night.

…...

The next day, they were walking to the library when Kurt practically body-tackled Rachel in the hallway and begged her to come to the auditorium to help him with an emergency last-minute audition, frantic to prove he could play a straight romantic lead for the school musical. Rachel was only too happy to agree of course, and Quinn was thrilled when her girlfriend reached out and grabbed her hand as Kurt pulled her along to the auditorium. Quinn sat up in the very top row, so she could watch her girlfriend perform without distracting Ms. Pillsbury, Coach Bieste, or Artie from their casting duties. When Kurt and Rachel came on stage in full Shakespearian garb, complete with headdresses, Quinn giggled and shook her head, thinking they looked a little silly. But as soon as Rachel opened her mouth, the blonde girl was completely transfixed. She actually leaned forward in her seat, elbows on her knees, as if subconsciously trying to get closer to the beautiful creature spouting lovelorn poetry on stage, completely transported.

"Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale." Quinn beamed down at the tiny figure lying prone on the stage, and believed it completely and utterly. At least until Kurt went in for the kiss, and Rachel burst out laughing.

…...

When Rachel came out of the dressing room back in her street clothes, Quinn was waiting for her on the auditorium steps, gazing at her with a goofy, totally spellbound expression. "I feel so awful about laughing when Kurt tried to kiss me," Rachel groaned, immediately sitting beside her girlfriend on the steps and putting her head in her hands.

"You...can _act,_" Quinn said simply in reply, shaking her head in amazement. Rachel raised her head doubtfully.

"You're seriously basing that judgement on the scene you just saw? Kurt was so overdone it was practically a drag show."

"Yeah, _Kurt _was. He's gonna need to work on that. But _you_...Rachel, you were _in it_. You were gone. You _were_ Juliet, and when I watched you, I literally forgot myself completely. I've never seen anything like it, I swear."

"Really?" Rachel grinned delightedly, twirling a lock of hair innocently around her finger as she took in her girlfriend's hungry gaze, blushing in delight.

"Mm-hmm," Quinn nodded, leaning in and capturing Rachel's lips in a kiss of pure worship. Rachel sighed happily into the kiss, thoroughly enjoying the effect her Shakespearian stage presence had had on her starry-eyed girlfriend. They sat there on the steps, cuddling and trading gentle kisses, until Rachel yelped that they were late for glee again. Giggling, they smoothed down their mussed clothing and fixed each other's smudged lip gloss, and ran for the choir room hand in hand. It was good to be back.


	3. Atonement

Hey Faberry fans!

Just to warn you, this chapter has an M-rated scene in it. Nom nom. Enjoy.

Separately, I just promised **Wheelie91** that I would take a break from this story the next time Glee took a hiatus (which they just did- no new glee eps till november 1st!) to finish my last Charmed story, "The Witching Hour," which has been on hiatus since 2008. So if you like Charmed, go check that out! I promise I won't take too much time away from this story, but when someone tells you they've been waiting three years for your story to be completed, it's pretty dang hard to say no (yes, flattery works)!

Anyway, enjoy this chap. FYI, there is also one bit of Jewish vocab in here, for those who don't know: **Kol Nidre** is the name of the evening service that begins Yom Kippur, which is the Jewish day of Atonement (which we just had this weekend). A sweet and happy new year to us all! Enjoy the chap.

-JW

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 3: Atonement**

…...

Quinn woke with a jolt, a half-formed gasp on her lips as she sat bolt-upright in bed with her heart thudding in her chest. The dim light of early dawn was filtering through the pale yellow curtains, and the gentle chirping of birds penetrated the edges of the blonde girl's sleep-fogged brain, slowly dragging her senses back into the waking world as a warm arm snaked around her waist under the covers.

"Bad dream, angel?" Rachel murmured with a yawn, her voice still husky with sleep. Quinn let out a deep sigh of relief, and flopped back down against the soft mattress, snuggling up to her girlfriend's warm body and twining their legs together under the covers.

"Ughh, yes. I dreamed we were on a school bus and my dad was driving, and he was going _way_ too fast. And I started crying and screaming and begging him to slow down, but he just ignored me and kept going faster and faster...and then he ran a red light and there was another school bus coming right at us at a 90-degree angle, and I just knew there was no way we'd survive the crash. Then I woke up."

"Mmm...das ees very _eeenteresting_," Rachel murmured huskily in her ear, her Freudian analyst accent coming out surprisingly well formed considering the early hour and the fact that they'd only been awake for about thirty seconds. "Und vaht do you tink dis speeding bus is representing in your subconscious, hmm?" Quinn giggled and nipped the soft skin over Rachel's collarbone.

"Ah, you avoid de kvestion vit sexual advances, eh? Dis ees very eeenterestink indeed, Fräulein. Perhaps you reqvire a more professional envihronment for de therapeutic vork to continue?"

"I'll show you a more professional environment, smartass," Quinn growled, smirking as she rolled on top of Rachel and slipped a thigh between the short girl's legs, settling her weight there with a low groan of pleasure as she dipped her head and began nibbling on her girlfriend's earlobe. Rachel gasped and arched her back in approval.

"Oh, wow, so we're _totally_ adding naughty therapist to our list of role-play ideas," the little starlet sighed dreamily, waking up thoroughly as her girlfriend's warm body moved rhythmically against her. "Fuck, that feels good Quinn..."

"Mm-hmm. Really good..." Quinn teased her tongue around Rachel's earlobe a little more, then sucked it into her mouth, slipping her hand down into her girlfriend's pajama bottoms and going straight for home base without any teasing or foreplay. The blonde girl wasn't normally so bold, but the sleepy early-morning daze seemed to take away her usual layers of hesitation and insecurity, and Rachel certainly wasn't complaining.

"Ahhh, yes, harder!" Rachel gasped, one hand snaking into Quinn's sleep-mussed blonde and pink hair, holding her roughly by the back of the head, and the other snaking between their sleep-warmed bodies to slip into the blonde girl's wetness, stroking urgently against her swollen clit. Quinn groaned against Rachel's ear, increasing her own pace as she curled two fingers expertly into Rachel's warm depths, their bodies arching and rocking together in exquisite pleasure.

"Fuck, Rachel, that's...oh, God..."

"I know, I know...don't stop Quinn, I'm so close...just a little harder..." Knowing by now that Rachel really did like it a little on the rough side sometimes, Quinn didn't turn shy and uncertain the way she used to at her girlfriend's request. Instead, she let herself go with a growl of desire, putting more of her weight and her muscle behind her thrusts, and biting down hard on the soft skin of Rachel's shoulder.

_"Oh!" _Rachel gasped, her back arching up hard as her body clamped down on Quinn's fingers, then exploding with release. Her thigh slammed up between her girlfriend's legs, pressing the heel of her hand up hard into Quinn's swollen clit, and sending her over the edge, too. They held onto each other tightly, gasping and trembling with release, until they were both completely spent. Quinn buried her face against Rachel's sweat-slicked throat, and Rachel relaxed her grip on Quinn's hair, stroking her thumb over the back of her girlfriend's neck.

"Well good _morning_," Rachel sighed blissfully, arching her back once more for a full-body stretch under Quinn's delicious weight.

"It is now," Quinn agreed, grinning goofily as she slipped off Rachel onto the mattress, settling her weight on one hip as she slipped her sticky fingers out of her girlfriend's pajama bottoms and rested her palm flat against the soft skin below Rachel's bellybutton. "How come we don't wake up every day this way?"

"Because I don't have time to wash my sheets every day," Rachel smirked, resting her hand on top of Quinn's and twining their slippery wet fingers together.

"Mm. When we have our own place in New York, we'll have enough sheets for every day of the week. And we won't even have to wash them ourselves; we'll use the wash-and-fold drop off laundry service that every New York neighborhood has."

"And we'll eat out at a different vegan restaurant every night of the week," Rachel sighed dreamily, wiggling her toes with another lazy stretch.

"Well, I'd still like to eat out _at home_ sometimes," Quinn teased, slipping her sticky hand up Rachel's t-shirt and giving her breast a playful squeeze.

"Quinn, no, we don't have time for this," Rachel sighed, resisting very half-heartedly as Quinn disappeared under the sheets and began teasing her all over again. "It's a school day..."

"We do have time. It's still early," Quinn mumbled, her voice muffled under the sheets.

"Quinn! Don't you dare get me all riled up again, I told you we don't have time! I have my callback for the musical today, and I will _not _be late for school because you can't control yourself!"

"Okay, okay," Quinn sighed, emerging from the sheets with her porcelain cheeks flushed pink, and a childish pout on her rosy lips. "Sorry for messing up your busy schedule."

"Don't pout, cupcake. I _love _when you let yourself get a little wild and aggressive like that...and believe me, I'm gonna be floating on a cloud all day today. But we both have plenty to be getting on with, and I'd hate to give our parents a reason to think we shouldn't be allowed to have sleepovers anymore. Right?"

"Yes, dear," Quinn sighed, but with a little smirk twitching the corner of her mouth. "I guess I can wait till _after _you get the part for another round of playtime. You'll have all that super-sexy victory energy."

"Don't jinx me!" Rachel squealed, smacking Quinn playfully on the ass.

"Not possible," Quinn shook her head, beaming as she gave Rachel a quick, hard kiss on the lips, and bounded out of bed to take a shower. Rachel just sat in bed, smiling stupidly as she watched Quinn walk away.

"Today is gonna be a good day," the little starlet sighed, and hopped out of bed to get on the elliptical.

…...

When Quinn got to the auditorium to watch Rachel's callback audition against Mercedes, she could tell right away that the dark-haired girl was nervous. She seemed distracted and antsy, in a way that Quinn had never seen her before; and certainly not before an important performance. She kept glancing across the stage to where Mercedes stood talking to her boyfriend, both of them shooting occasional cold looks back at the tiny starlet. Quinn bristled, and hurried up the steps of the stage to Rachel's side.

"This part is yours, Rach. Everyone knows it. Just do your thing and let them see you shine...you got this, baby."

"'Kay," Rachel nodded distractedly, still not completely focused. With a little huff of determination, Quinn grabbed her face and kissed her. Hard. Rachel gave a small squeak of surprise; but when Quinn let her go, she was smiling, and the drive was back in her dark, glittering eyes.

"Go get 'em, tiger," Quinn growled. Rachel gave her a little wink, then turned and walked to the middle of the stage. The blonde girl stood quietly in the corner of the stage, mesmerized as always by her girlfriend's resonant performance; though she had to admit that Mercedes was on, too. They really were both incredible, and Quinn didn't envy the job that Artie, Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste had to do in picking just one of them for the lead. She shook this thought off, clapping loudly and jumping up and down as Rachel finished her audition and walked back towards her in the shadows.

"Rach, that was amazing," Quinn breathed, her smile faltering when she saw the devastated look in her girlfriend's dark eyes.

"She was better than me," Rachel said softly.

"What? No she wasn't," Quinn disagreed, shaking her head with a frown.

"She was." Rachel insisted, her voice still with that odd, flat, emotionless timber that Quinn found more than a little unsettling.

"Well we'll just have to agree to disagree," Quinn frowned, tucking a stray lock of silky brown hair back behind Rachel's ear. "Because I've never been prouder of you, and I'm not about to throw a pity party here. C'mon, let's go check out Brittany's campaign flash mob before it's over, I saw the choreography and it's gonna be _hot_."

"All right," Rachel sighed; but Quinn could tell her heart wasn't in it.

The rest of the week was tense and awkward, especially in glee. Kurt and Brittany running against each other for class president, combined with Rachel and Mercedes awaiting the final casting of West Side Story, was taking a toll on the entire club, to the point where they couldn't seem to get through a rehearsal without bickering and snapping over every little thing that went wrong. All in all, Quinn was hugely relieved when Friday came, and the announcement of the final casting would finally be made. Just as they were sitting down to lunch with Brittany and Santana, though, an announcement came over the PA system summoning Rachel and Mercedes to the guidance counselor's office.

"Oh _God,_ they're not making you do _another_ callback?" Quinn groaned, rolling her eyes as she dropped into her seat at their usual cafeteria table.

"I don't know. I suppose I should go find out." Rachel paled, pushing her uneaten lunch away on the table.

"Do you want me to come, baby? Moral support?" Quinn squeezed Rachel's hand, which had gone cold and clammy. Rachel sighed and raised her chin defiantly.

"No, but thank you for being so chivalrous, Quinnie. If I want the world to see me as a professional actress then I must act professionally when the opportunity arises. I'll be quite all right."

"We're rooting for you, shortcake," Santana said offhandedly as she began cutting up her salad into tiny bites.

"Totally," Brittany nodded enthusiastically. "I mean Mercedes is awesome, but _you're_ the unicorn. Don't forget it, or your horn will fall off!"

"Thank you Brittany," Rachel sighed, with a brave little smile. "All right, I'm off. Save my lunch for me, will you? I'll be back shortly." With that, Rachel took a deep breath, and marched off to the guidance counselor's office.

"Oh my God, my stomach is all tied up in knots," Quinn groaned after she left, turning back to her friends with one hand pressed anxiously to her bellybutton. "I hope I don't feel this way every time she's up for a part. I'll give myself an ulcer by age 30."

"Oh, relax, Q," Santana waved her off dismissively, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. "We all know your little Tinkerbell's got it in the bag. Nobody's got her talent or her drive. Do you honestly think Mercedes spent half as much time practicing as Rachel did? Fat chance. You should be more worried about the very real possibility that once we both get cast, she'll annoy me so much in rehearsals that I'll stab her in the eye with a tuning fork."

"You're such a comfort, San," Quinn snickered, rolling her eyes. But a smile crept onto her face as she began nibbling on her fruit salad.

When Rachel didn't return to lunch, Quinn grabbed a couple of things off her tray (skipping meals was no way to keep her little star in top form) and went to wait for her girlfriend by her locker. Finally, with only a few minutes left to get to fifth period, Rachel appeared, her face betraying no emotion as Quinn raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Well?"

"I got the part."

"Fuck _yeah_, you got the part!" Quinn exclaimed, throwing her arms around her girlfriend's shoulders. Then she pulled back, frowning in confusion at the anguished expression on the shorter girl's face. "Rach, why do you look like you just came from Barbra Streisand's funeral?"

"I got the part by default, Quinn. They offered it to both of us- they were gonna double-cast Maria- and Mercedes refused. She just walked out. It feels so wrong, Quinn, I didn't want it like this..." Rachel shook her head, a dismal expression on her face as tears welled up in her big brown eyes.

"Aww, starlight. I"m sorry that happened, but it's _not _your fault and it's not your problem. You were always gonna be Maria, and we all know it. And if Mercedes is gonna let pride get in the way of accepting a leading role when it's offered to her, she's _definitely_ not gonna make it in showbiz anyway. Don't let her ruin this for you, baby." Quinn reached out and ran a hand through Rachel's hair, gently kneading the back of her neck.

"I really thought we were friends, you know? I thought our respect for each other's talents could overcome our professional competition. I guess I'm even more naïve than I realized." Rachel sniffed back her tears, rubbing the moisture roughly from her eyes.

"You're perfect," Quinn whispered, leaning down and giving her a soft, sweet kiss. "And we _are_ going to celebrate this tonight. But right now we're late for English. C'mon, I saved you a granola bar and some fruit salad." Rachel smiled sadly, leaning gratefully into Quinn's arm as they walked off to class together.

…...

Despite Quinn's campaign of enthusiasm, Rachel remained despondent for the rest of the day, and when Jacob and Michael got home from work that night, they found Quinn still comforting a crying Rachel over bowls of vegan ice cream on the couch.

"Oh, honey. You didn't get the part?" Jacob asked, his incredulity obvious on his face.

"No, I did," Rachel sniffled, taking a fresh tissue from the box in her lap and wiping her red eyes. "But I lost a friend in the process."

"Mercedes?" Michael asked knowingly, sitting down beside his daughter on the couch and squeezing her knee in gentle commiseration.

"Yeah," Rachel sighed, tossing her crumpled tissue aside and yanking out a fresh one to blow her nose.

"They offered the part to both of them. They were gonna double-cast the lead, and give Rachel and Mercedes each a full week of performances. But Mercedes was so offended she refused the part completely. And then she quit glee club." Quinn sighed sadly.

"That _wasn't _what I wanted!" Rachel wailed, fresh tears welling up in her puffy red eyes. "We were a team, and now because of me we don't have enough people to qualify for sectionals, once again. Everyone's going to hate me."

"_Not _because of you, Rach. Because of Mercedes. She's the one who thinks she's too good for us now, and that is not your fault," Quinn exclaimed passionately, looking to her girlfriend's dads for backup.

"I think Quinn's right, sweetheart," Jacob said gently, sitting beside the blonde girl and squeezing her shoulder. "You can't control other people. All you did was go for what you wanted, and if Mercedes can't handle that, she's better off not being in show business, in any case. I _am_ sorry you lost a friend, honey. But don't let her control how _you_ feel about yourself."

"I guess," Rachel sighed, wiping wearily at her eyes again.

"I _know_," Jacob countered, and Quinn nodded in agreement. "Now. I can see you girls had a hard day, but it _is _still Kol Nidre, and Daddy and I are going upstairs to shower and get ready for temple. Are you both still coming?"

"Yes, of course," Rachel smiled sadly, looking to Quinn for confirmation. The blonde girl beamed shyly back, nodding enthusiastically. "If I can't make amends with Mercedes, at least I can atone with God before I start screwing up all over again in the new year."

"You and everyone else on the planet, kid," Michael said jokingly, with a little nudge to her ribs. Rachel giggled and rolled her eyes.

"All right then," Jacob nodded, standing from the couch with a stretch and ruffling Quinn's pink-streaked hair. "We'll meet you both back down here in an hour, okay?"

"'Kay, Dad." Rachel smiled softly, accepting a quick kiss on the cheek from both her parents before the turned and headed up the stairs to prepare for the most somber service of the entire Hebrew calendar. Once they'd left, she turned back to Quinn, who was quietly observing her with a gentle, loving expression in her glittering hazel eyes. "You know Quinn, Yom Kippur is the only day of the year when sex is specifically forbidden."

"Yeah, I actually read that on Wikipedia. I also read that you're supposed to wear white to symbolize purity and the washing away of your sins, and that some people wear canvas sneakers because the Talmud considers leather to be impure on the Day of Atonement."

"Wow, very good my little shiksa," Rachel grinned, touched that Quinn had gone to the trouble not only to participate in her family's Jewish life, but to understand it. "But my point was...Yom Kippur doesn't start until sunset. And we've still got an hour before the evening service begins."

"Oh, so I can't make us late for school, but you can make us late for Kol Nidre?" Quinn smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Double-standard much?"

"We won't be late. We have an _hour_. Do you know how many times I can make you come in an hour?"

"Hmm..." Quinn cocked her head to the side, her cheeks flushing pink as she pretended to consider the question. "I really want to find out the answer to that question, Rach...but are you sure we're not gonna get hit with, like, a bolt of lightning if we're late for services?"

"Pretty sure. But if you don't wanna..." Rachel shrugged, and made to get up off the couch.

"Oh, please, like you don't know I'm bluffing," Quinn snorted, grabbing Rachel's hand and pulling her back down for a soft, teasing kiss.

"Mm...that's what I'm talking about," Rachel grinned stupidly, jumping up from the couch with Quinn's hand clasped firmly in her grip, and bounding energetically for the stairs.


	4. I Never

Hey Faberry fans!

Wow, the last month has been sooooooo busy. I'm almost (_almost_) glad that glee was on hiatus, so I didn't have to stress over missing an episode! I know I said I was gonna try to finish _The__Witching__Hour_during this month of no Glee, but things just got so busy that I didn't have time to write anything at all. I will still try my hardest to finish that story before the new year...but for now, we are back to our Glee girls! Enjoy :)

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 4: I Never**

…...

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and Quinn and Brittany were lounging on the floor in front of the TV in the Pierce's living room, preparing Brittany's campaign materials while MTV played mindlessly in the background. Brittany was hand-painting a large hallway banner that said PIERCE 4 PREZ, while Quinn was making notes on a draft of Brittany's speech for the upcoming debate for class president candidates. Though it was still just afternoon, the girls were wearing pajamas and fluffy slippers, plainly enjoying a lazy Sunday with no plans to brave the chilly rain outside.

"You know Britt, this speech isn't half bad. You're actually really good at expressing yourself when you have a clear idea of who your audience is," Quinn nodded thoughtfully, sitting up as she capped her red pen and handed the speech back over to the other girl. "I just made some notes on re-arranging the sections, so your ideas will have a more natural flow. But your writing style has really improved."

"Thanks, Quinn. You've really been a great editor. After I win, I'll totally thank you in my acceptance speech." Quinn just chuckled, and nodded. Then a gust of cold, damp air swept through the room, along with the sound of the front door swinging open and the clatter of rain boots.

"Yo, blondies, we're home!" Santana's voice called, and a moment later, Rachel and Santana appeared in the living room, their cheeks pink with cold and their hair misted with rain. Santana dropped straight onto the floor beside Brittany, leaning carefully on one hand to avoid touching the wet poster, and gave her girlfriend an enthusiastic kiss hello. Rachel, meanwhile, curled up on the couch and pulled a pillow over her head.

"What's wrong, baby?" Quinn asked gently, climbing from the floor up onto the couch and putting a hand on Rachel's knee. "Bad rehearsal?"

"It was a _great_rehearsal," Santana said with a sly grin. "If I'd known what kick-ass harmonies Thumbelina and I could pull off, I might not have resisted her annoyingly resilient attempts at friendship for quite so long."

"It was a _decent_ rehearsal, though I wouldn't call it great. You still need to work on projecting your lower range, Santana, and I'm still not getting the timing quite right. Still, for our first rehearsal off-book I'm pleased with the results," Rachel sighed, sitting up and rubbing her temples with a weary expression. "I'm all right baby, I've just got a splitting headache. I'm not sure I'm up for the sleepover, Brittany."

"Oh, no, you have to stay!" Brittany pouted, sitting up on her knees with a look of firm determination. "We haven't had our bonding time yet, and besides, I already ordered a vegan pizza. Do you want boo-boo duck? He'll make you feel lots better," the sweet blonde girl smiled, referring to the duck-shaped ice pack holder Santana had given her after a cheerleading injury a few years ago.

"No thank you, Brittany, I don't think that would help in this case. But maybe some Advil?" Rachel smiled wanly. Brittany nodded, and trotted off to the kitchen.

"Want me to give you a head rub, babycakes?" Quinn asked gently, pulling Rachel tight against her and scooting behind her back.

"Yes please," Rachel sighed happily, closing her eyes as Quinn's warm fingers pressed gently against her temples and forehead.

"Why didn't you say anything at rehearsal, shortcake?" Santana frowned, looking genuinely upset at the thought of Rachel being in pain. "We could've sent Beiste to the coach's office for some painkillers. You don't have to suffer in silence, y'know."

"I know, but as an aspiring actress, I must maintain a professional attitude in front of my fellow performers, particularly in a full-cast rehearsal. As the leading lady, they're looking to me to set the tone, and if I appear weak or needy, they'll lose confidence in the production, and then everyone's performance could suffer." Rachel sighed and dropped her head back against Quinn's chest, nestling comfortably against her girlfriend as Quinn's warm, nimble fingers continued to drain the tension from her head. "Jesus, that feels good Quinn..."

"My fingers are at your disposal, my lady," Quinn joked lightly, kissing the top of Rachel's head.

"Mmm...remind me of that when my head stops spinning, would you?" The dark-haired starlet joked back with a soft yawn. Santana frowned thoughtfully.

"You know, you're a lot tougher than you look, shortcake." Rachel opened her eyes, and grinned cheekily.

"Why thank you, Santana. That means a lot coming from someone who's survived four consecutive years of Sue Sylvester's pre-season cheerleading boot camp." They all chuckled, and Brittany returned from the kitchen with the Advil and a glass of water for Rachel, plus a large bowl of popcorn.

"I think we've spent enough time on the campaign for today, Quinn. Let's put this stuff away so we can watch a movie. Santi, wanna get out of those damp clothes and put on comfy pajamas so we can snuggle?"

"Hell yes. Don't start without me." Santana kissed Brittany and stroked her cheek, then gave her a little wink as she took off for the stairs.

"How about you, starlight?" Quinn murmured, smoothing Rachel's hair back from her forehead, checking anxiously for any sign of a fever. "Do you really feel sick? I can take you home if you want. Or we can stay, and I'll cure you with cuddles..." Quinn wrapped both arms around her girlfriend's rain-chilled body, holding her close and nuzzling the back of her neck. Rachel sighed and reached one arm back to run through her girlfriend's shaggy, pink-streaked hair.

"Option B, please. I'm not sick, it's just a tension headache. Ever since I had that concussion last year, I seem to get more of those— especially when the weather is cold and damp like this. But you always know how to make me feel better..."

"Damn straight," Quinn agreed, smiling proudly. "Okay, go get into your PJ's so we can get our cuddle on."

"If you insist," Rachel grinned, turning in Quinn's lap to give her girlfriend a soft, sweet kiss before climbing off the couch and grabbing her overnight bag from the hall. Santana came back a minute later with a tray of hot cocoa (one made with soymilk, for Rachel), looking much less intimidating than usual in her favorite cupcake pajamas. They all bickered gently over what movie to watch, and Rachel surprised everyone by saying she wasn't in the mood for anything musical. They finally landed on Empire Records, and settled down with popcorn, cocoa, and vegan pizza, cuddled cozily on the couch as the rain continued to patter gently on the windows.

By the time the movie was over, Quinn and Rachel were both fast asleep. "Wake up, duckies," Brittany said gently, shaking Quinn's shoulder.

"Mm. Five more minutes, Mom..." Santana snorted, and slipped her fingers under the blankets to tickle Quinn's ribs. Instantly, the blonde girl squealed and bolted upright, thrashing with laughter; and Rachel, who had been peacefully sleeping on top of her, fell to the floor in a heap.

"What the hell, Santana?" Quinn whined, rubbing her eyes with a drowsy yawn.

"Geez, grandma, did you need a longer nap?" Santana replied sweetly, kneeling down on the floor to help Rachel up. "Sorry about that mija, I didn't know tickling Quinn would make her emergency eject button go off. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Rachel yawned, blinking bemusedly as Santana hauled her back up onto the couch. Even in her sleep-fogged brain, Rachel noted that Santana had just called her by what was probably her most affectionate nickname, and she was deeply touched by the small but significant gesture of friendship.

"Good, 'cause this evening is _not_ over. C'mon B, help me play bartender in the kitchen. I'm in the mood to invent a new, presidential cocktail. We can serve 'em at your inauguration party." Santana winked, and Brittany beamed, bouncing out of the room after her girlfriend, both of them giggling as they chased each other down the hall to the kitchen.

"Not too strong, Santana!" Quinn yelled after them, knowing it was futile. She smirked and shook her head with a little snort of amusement. "What are we gonna do with those two," she sighed, snuggling up to Rachel, who was rubbing her eyes and yawning blearily. "How's your head, baby? Feeling any better?"

"Mm-hmm," Rachel nodded absently, but she was still rubbing her stiff neck muscles. "Will you give me a back rub, Quinnie?"

"Sure, baby," Quinn smiled indulgently, and pulled Rachel's warm back against her front, kneading her tight shoulder and neck muscles with warm, gentle fingers.

"Ohhhh, that feels good," Rachel sighed, dropping her head forward with a groan of relief. "You really do have magic fingers, you know."

"So I've been told," Quinn teased gently. Then she fell silent for a moment, frowning quietly to herself as she tried to think of the least confrontational way to ask the question that had been plaguing the back of her mind. "Rach, are you _sure_it's just the crappy weather that's giving you all these headaches lately, and not something…deeper? I'm kinda worried you're sublimating all this stress about Mercedes, and what happened with the play. It's not healthy, baby. You're all tied up in knots—literally. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Quinn," Rachel sighed dejectedly. "I've accepted that friendship in the theater is a luxury I may not be able to afford. I've always known it would be lonely at the top—this is simply the path I've chosen. It's done. I don't need a therapy session, thanks."

"That doesn't sound like my sunny little optimist," Quinn needled gently, leaning her chin on Rachel's shoulder as her hands moved further down her girlfriend's warm back, kneading the muscles between her ribs and her hips. Rachel squirmed a little, and giggled helplessly. "I can't remember a single time you've given up on something you wanted before now. C'mon, what gives? I'll bet Britt and San would help us woo Mercedes back to glee, if we asked them real nice."

"You mean, while they're drunk?" Rachel snorted.

"Exactly," Quinn agreed, with a giggle of her own.

"I dunno, babe. I don't want this to turn into some kind of turf war. If we push too hard, we could end up splitting the whole glee club right down the middle…Kurt and Tina would side with Mercedes if it came down to it, then Mike would follow Tina and Blaine would follow Kurt. I don't want to cause any more defections among the ranks, thank you very much. I think I've done enough damage already, don't you?"

"I don't think you've done any damage," Quinn frowned.

"Except to my street cred," Santana said sarcastically as she came back into the room, Brittany at her heels carrying a tray with four tall glasses, each with a bendy straw and a little umbrella. "And we can start fixing that problem right now, bitches." Santana took the tray from her girlfriend and plunked it down on the coffee table, and passed the drinks around with a devilish smirk of satisfaction. She gave the last one to Brittany with a flourish and a sweet, totally unselfconscious kiss.

"Thanks Santi," Brittany beamed, bouncing onto the couch with her drink so a little sloshed onto Quinn's pajama-clad legs. "I wanna play I never!"

"Thank God we're not driving," Rachel groaned, but she was smiling as she settled down against Quinn's shoulder, sniffing experimentally at her drink. "Jesus, Santana! This smells like paint fumes. There's nothing in here that'll make me go blind, right? Because I don't think I'd make a very inspiring disabled person."

"Never have I ever poisoned my friends," Santana smirked, holding up her glass in front of her face, and very deliberately not taking a drink.

"What about last year when you gave us mono?" Quinn countered, raising an eyebrow teasingly. Santana groaned.

"Dude, you're never gonna forgive me for that, are you?" The surly Latina whined. "It's not like it was gonna kill you or anything. And I waited on you hand and foot, didn't I?"

"You brought me ginger ale," Quinn said sardonically.

"Exactly. And now I brought you booze. So shut up and drink, will you?"

"No, she can't drink until I take my turn!" Brittany exclaimed with a pout, keen to play the game properly.

"Okay B, just think of something good. We really gotta get this party started." Santana wiggled her eyebrows. Brittany grinned knowingly.

"Never have I ever...had sex in the Cheerios locker room." They all picked up their cups and drank.


	5. Baby's First Sleepover

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 5: Baby's First Sleepover**

…

It was a cool, crisp Saturday afternoon in Lima, and Quinn was quietly studying in the back of the auditorium while Rachel, Blaine and Santana were up on stage, rehearsing for West Side Story. The blonde girl knew in the back of her mind that the auditorium wasn't the best place in the world to study; but the last few weeks had been so busy, she'd barely seen her girlfriend outside school hours, and ultimately proclaimed that if this was where Rachel was going to spend all her free time, then she would, too. And in some ways, the hum of the theater made a nice background to her essay on the Russian Revolution.

Her phone, on the other hand, was proving a much bigger distraction, as Kurt (who had been banned from play rehearsals by Coach Beiste due to constant interference) kept texting her to ask how Blaine sounded, and whether any of the other cast members seemed to be crushing or moving in on his man. Finally, Quinn resolved to turn her phone off completely; but just as she was pulling it out of her pocket, it buzzed yet again. Frowning, the blonde girl flipped the little phone around to see who was calling her, assuming it was Kurt harassing her with more stalker-esque questions, or Brittany wanting advice on new campaign materials. But the number on the screen wasn't from Lima at all—it was from Rob Morgan-Greene, one of baby Beth's adoptive dads.

Quinn jumped up from her seat in a panic, terrified at the thought that something might have happened to her baby. She hurried out into the hallway as she answered, escaping the noise and chaos of the auditorium as she pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Rob? Is anything wrong? Is it Beth, is she all right?" Quinn practically choked on the words, feeling the odd sensation of her heart beating in her throat.

"Hi Quinn, Beth is just fine," Rob said on the other end, his voice terse and clipped with anxiety. "I'm so sorry to bother you like this, but I didn't know who else to ask—"

"Rob, it's fine, please. What's wrong? How can I help?" Quinn asked gently, her terror melting into wary confusion as she absorbed the fact that her baby was not in harm's way.

"My mother just had a stroke, and I need to get to Denver tonight. Jack's away at a conference in Toronto, and he can't get back until tomorrow. I know this is a lot to ask, but we've never left Beth overnight before, and under the circumstances, I just—I'd rather she be with her mom than anyone else."

"_Oh_. Oh my God, I'm so sorry—wait, you're asking _me_ to spend the night with Beth? The _whole_ night?"

"I know, it's completely inappropriate for me to ask you. I just thought you might be comfortable with…"

"No, I mean, _yes!_ I am! I will! Are you sure you don't want to ask someone older, though? I mean, I've babysat a lot, but never overnight…"

"I'm sure, Quinn. We don't have any family close by, and I'd much rather she be with you than one of our flaky friends. Thank you so much, I'm so relieved. How soon can you get here?"

….

It was dark by the time Quinn and Rachel arrived at the Morgan-Greene house, but the windows were brightly lit. A scarecrow with a Jack-o-lantern head sat on a chair by the front door, obviously a leftover from Halloween festivities that no one had gotten around to clearing away yet. Quinn had been here exactly three times before, making this the fourth time she'd lay eyes on her baby (well, fifth if you counted her birth), and though the circumstances were awful, she was filled with a flutter of anticipation.

"Babe, are you gonna knock, or should I?" Rachel asked gently, snapping Quinn out of her reverie. The blonde girl grinned sheepishly, and reached out to ring the bell. Moments later, the door was opened, and Rob Morgan-Green stood in front of them with baby Beth on his hip.

"Hello girls, thank you _so_ much for coming. I owe you both an enormous favor," Rob gushed anxiously, ushering them into the house.

"You don't have to thank us," Rachel smiled brightly as she reached for Beth, who gurgled and cooed when she recognized the little starlet, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of her dark hair. "We're thrilled to spend time with Bethy, aren't we baby? Yes, we're gonna have a special girls' night tonight, would you like that little angel?" Rachel cooed softly to the baby, but Quinn just stood there transfixed. Every time she'd seen her baby, she'd thought: _there __is __no __way __this __child __could __ever __be __more __perfect_. Yet somehow, she always managed to be even more perfect the next time. She was bigger now, almost a year and a half old, and there was such dazzling intelligence and curiosity behind her hazel eyes, it nearly blew Quinn's mind. Her baby was becoming a _person_. She was in a pair of soft footy pajamas and a knitted hat with monkey ears, her soft blonde curls poking out around the edges as she blinked with calm curiosity between the two girls.

"Hey there, little monkey," Quinn murmured, barely able to get her voice out as she reached out and stroked Beth's soft, chubby cheek. "Can Mommy give you a big kiss?" Beth gurgled placidly, and Quinn leaned in close to the baby in Rachel's arms, closing her eyes and breathing in the intoxicating scent of fresh baby powder as she planted a barrage of kisses on Beth's warm cheek. The baby giggled in response, and leaned her head down against Rachel's shoulder, gazing up at Quinn expectantly for more.

"I can't tell you what a relief this is," Rob said again as he put Quinn and Rachel's overnight bags by the stairs, and guided them (rather forcefully) by their shoulders towards the kitchen. "I'm afraid I don't have time to get you settled here, but you can call Jack if anything should come up—he'll have his cell phone on all night just in case of emergencies. I've got to leave for the airport in about fifteen minutes, but I'll show you the emergency contact list and where to find diapers and Beth's food. Her bedtime bottle is all ready, just warm it up in a pan of hot water for 90 seconds before you give it to her. Help yourselves to anything in the fridge, of course. Jesus, what am I forgetting? I know I'm forgetting something…"

"Go," Quinn said gently, putting _her_ hand on _his_ shoulder this time. "I know what you're going through right now, believe me. Nothing you do is gonna feel right. But you _are_ doing the right thing—just go, get to your parents. We'll be fine here with Beth. And if we have any questions, we'll call Jack." Rob nodded, and with a bleak smile, enveloped Quinn in an unexpected, rib-cracking hug.

"I hope Beth grows up to be every bit as wise and compassionate as you, Quinn. I already know she got your gorgeous face." Quinn giggled, and Rob winked sadly as he pulled on his coat and grabbed his carry-on luggage. "Okay, baby, Papa's gotta go now—are you gonna be a good girl for Quinn and Rachel? Big kiss for my butterfly…" After a round of kisses and a few more assurances that they had the emergency contact list and would call Jack if anything came up, Rob was gone, and Quinn and Rachel were left alone with baby Beth.

"Well," Rachel said slowly to the baby, who blinked up at her placidly. "What does a baby do for fun around here, hmm Bethy? Tequila shooters and Marlboro reds?" Quinn snorted with laughter, and moved in to scoop the baby up for a hug.

"Shut up, dork. Let me see my little monkey…" Beth gurgled happily as she was scooped into the blonde girl's arms, her little hand going straight for Quinn's hair and grabbing the end of one of the longer pink wisps in front. "Ouch! You're very strong, baby, yes you are…Rach, a little help?" The dark-haired girl snickered and swooped in to rescue her girlfriend's hair from the baby's strong little fists, and when Beth wailed in protest, it was only natural for Rachel to sing an upbeat tune to distract her. The first thing that popped into her head was "Somebody to Love," since it was the song that Beth had responded to most when she was still in utero. Soon Quinn joined in with the harmony, swinging the baby around gently on her hip. Then Rachel slipped her arms around her girlfriend's waist, with Beth held securely between them as they danced around the kitchen until they were dizzy.

"Do you think she'll remember this, Rach?" Quinn asked softly when they'd caught their breath. "I mean…do you think she'll remember us, and how much we love her? And know that we didn't abandon her?" Rachel looked between the twin sets of hazel eyes fixed pensively on her, and smiled softly.

"I don't think it matters if she remembers this moment consciously. She's always going to carry the feeling of being loved. And she won't _need_ to remember to know how much we love her, because she's always gonna know us. That's why we picked open adoption in the first place, right? And it's clear at this point that Rob and Jack aren't threatened by us being part of her life. We can be like the cool aunts who she can come visit in New York when she's older…and honestly, who do you think her dads will turn to when it comes time to explain puberty?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," Quinn admitted, a reluctant grin spreading across her face when she thought of an older Beth being in their lives down the road.

"Mm, well, plenty of time to worry about that stuff when we're all older and wiser," Rachel sighed, grabbing her purse off the table and fishing out her digital camera. "And in the meantime, a bit of photographic evidence couldn't hurt." She pointed the lens at her two perfect blonde angels, who were both blinking bemusedly up at her. Beth yawned and put her head down on Quinn's shoulder. Rachel snapped a picture.

"I think it's bedtime for little monkeys," Quinn murmured, rubbing the baby's tiny back as her breathing turned soft and even. "Rach, will you put on a pan of water to warm up her bottle?"

"Mm-hmm," Rachel murmured agreeably, kissing both Quinn and Beth on the tops of their heads as she went to the stove. They fell into the routine so easily and naturally, neither wanted to jinx it by talking about it too much. Rachel heated up the bottle, and upstairs Quinn changed Beth's diaper and sang to her softly while Rachel tested the formula on her wrist to make sure it wasn't too hot.

"I just can't stand to put her down," Quinn admitted softly as Rachel passed her the bottle, making the official bedtime ritual complete as Beth took the bottle in her chubby little hands and began sucking contentedly in Quinn's arms.

"Let's bring her to our bed—I mean, the master bedroom. You can hold her a while longer while I sing a lullaby." Quinn beamed shyly at this suggestion, and they wandered down the hall to the bedroom where they'd be sleeping tonight, curling up in the middle of the large bed with the lights dimmed. Beth nestled comfortably against Quinn's chest, her sleepy hazel eyes fixed on Rachel as the little starlet began softly singing Baby Beluga.

"Baby beluga, ohhhh baby beluga…is the water warm? Is your mama home with you, so happy?" Soon Beth's eyes drooped closed, and Quinn's hand, which had been rubbing lightly up and down the baby's back, went still. Rachel spent several silent minutes just watching her two angels sleep; but eventually she knew she had to rouse Quinn and get the baby tucked into her crib.

"Quinnie," she murmured softly, curling up a little tighter against her girlfriend's side and stroking a lock of tousled pink hair back from her porcelain cheek. "C'mon angel face, let's get this little monkey tucked in." Quinn's eyes blinked open with a soft sigh, and she smiled sleepily.

"I like playing house with you," she said quietly.

"I like it too," Rachel agreed, leaning down to capture Quinn's warm lips in a soft, sweet kiss over the sleeping baby's head. "C'mon love, let's go put Bethy down in her crib, and then we'll see about some dinner, hmm?"

"Perfect," Quinn agreed contentedly, keeping one arm securely over her sleeping baby's head as she rose from the bed, and padded down the hall to the nursery, dimly lit with a moon-and-stars nightlight, her girlfriend's warm hand on the small of her back.

"Goodnight, baby," Rachel whispered as Quinn lowered her precious bundle into the crib.

"Sweet dreams, little monkey," Quinn murmured, tucking the blanket snugly around Beth's shoulders, and stroking a wisp of blonde hair from her forehead. Then she leaned back and wrapped an arm around Rachel's hips, dropping her head onto the shorter girl's shoulder. They were both silent for a minute; then Rachel heard her girlfriend sniffle softly.

"Are you crying?" the dark-haired girl asked gently, not entirely surprised.

"Happy tears. Mostly," Quinn admitted, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "I just…part of me wishes I could just stay inside this moment forever. And the other part of me…can't wait for our future. Our home. Everything we're gonna have together after we leave here."

"Me too, baby," Rachel assured her, her nails trailing absently up and down Quinn's back. "I know exactly how you feel. How about we go downstairs and play house some more? If you make me dinner, I'll repay you with sexual favors."

"Yes ma'am," Quinn giggled softly, grabbing the baby monitor as they both slipped quietly from the nursery, skipping giddily down the stairs to practice for their future.


	6. One Hand, One Heart

Hey Faberry fans!

This is a fairly short chap; but I didn't want to wait to post it, because I probably won't have time to write any more for at least a week. So, enjoy this little nugget of sweetness! And if you're jonesing for more, there's also a new chap up in my Faberry Futurefic (Snapshots) from a few days ago. Just sayin'. Enjoy, and happy almost-Thanksgiving!

-JW

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 6: One Hand, One Heart**

…...

"Rachel, come _on_. If we stay here any longer the janitor's gonna cut off the power and lock us in for the night," Quinn whined, pulling on her girlfriend's arm in an attempt to physically drag her off the stage. "There _is_ such a thing as over-preparing, you know."

"Opening night is four days away, Quinn. If you can't handle my increased anxiety and heightened focus on my craft right now, then fine. You are free to go about your business as you see fit. But if you respect me at _all_, you won't try to talk me out of preparing for the most important, iconic role of my life thus far as _I_see fit." Rachel resolutely returned to her sheet music, making a few tiny notations before crossing to her mark on the stage, closing her eyes, and taking a few slow, deep breaths. Even with her eyes closed, however, she could hear Quinn's soft sigh of consternation.

"Okay, little star. I'll leave you be, and you can stay in the auditorium all night if that's what you need to do...but first just give me five minutes, okay? I really wanna show you something."

_"__Quinnnnn,__"_ Rachel whined, dragging her feet as her girlfriend literally pulled her off the stage and out the auditorium door. "You're ruining my subjective time! Stanislavsky said that true embodiment of a role can only come when an actor allows herself to be wholly subsumed into the character's inner life and perceptions. I'm trying to create real sense memory here. Do you understand how delicate this process is?"

"Yes, honey, I understand. But just come here for one second..." Quinn continued to drag Rachel down the narrow corridor beyond the auditorium, and out into the brisk evening air behind the parking lot.

"Why are we out here?" Rachel whined, wrapping her arms around herself with a little shiver. "I'm going to have to do my vocal warm-ups all over again after being out here in the cold air, you know."

"I'll keep you warm, baby," Quinn murmured, smirking softly as she wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's waist, pressing her front to Rachel's back, and resting her chin on her girlfriend's shoulder. "Now look. Have you ever seen a more incredible sunset?" Rachel frowned impatiently, her gaze following Quinn's to take in the blaze of color sinking into the tree line. It _was_ a rather glorious sunset; shimmering ruby-red clouds gave way to a rich purple twilight, while higher up, dazzling cerulean blue gave way to the full darkness of inky night sky, twinkling with a few early stars.

_"__That's_ why you brought me out here? To watch the _sunset?__"_ Rachel huffed in agitation, her foot tapping impatiently on the asphalt as her entire body shivered with a combination of nerves and cold. "That's just great, Quinn. Time well spent. Maybe if we're really lucky, I can catch pneumonia out here in time for opening night. Can I please go back inside now?" Quinn wrapped her arms tighter around Rachel's trembling body, nuzzling her face into the shorter girl's shiny dark hair, her breath warm on Rachel's temple.

"Happy anniversary," the blonde girl murmured, planting a soft, lingering kiss on the smooth skin below Rachel's ear.

"Oh...fuck me," the little starlet groaned softly, her body going limp in her girlfriend's strong arms as she dropped her head back against the blonde girl's shoulder. "Quinn...I'm sorry..."

"Shh, it's okay Rach. I know you're totally consumed by this role right now...and frankly I was scared to make any plans anyway. We don't exactly have the best track record with the whole anniversary thing," Quinn shrugged, plainly trying to make light of the painful memory of their first anniversary, when her father had shown up drunk at her house and beaten both Quinn and her mother bloody until the Berrys arrived to intercede. Rachel whimpered softly, leaning back more securely against Quinn's warm body and tangling their arms together over her stomach.

"Oh, baby...I'm so sorry, I'm a horrible, selfish girlfriend..."

"Nope. You're the best thing that ever happened to me," Quinn said quietly, pressing another soft kiss to Rachel's temple. "I know we're probably supposed to get dressed up and go out to dinner somewhere fancy and give each other jewelry; but I don't need that to be happy, Rach. And I don't want to take you away from your whole method acting process so close to opening night. I just wanted one moment for us to be together without any distractions...just like we were at this exact same moment two years ago."

"Oh, Quinnie...my sweet angel," Rachel whispered, turning in her girlfriend's arms and leaning up on her tiptoes to pull the taller girl into a deep, slow, unhurried kiss.

"Mmm," Quinn sighed happily.

"Happy anniversary," Rachel sighed, smiling dazedly into her girlfriend's hazel eyes, shining with reflected moonlight. "You're my favorite person, Quinn Cordelia Fabray."

"Well that's really quite lucky, because you're _my_ favorite person, Rachel Barbra Berry." Quinn smirked, leaning down to drop a final kiss on the end of her girlfriend's cold nose. Rachel giggled delightedly. "Okay, I had my moment, now let's get back inside before we both freeze. It _would_ kind of ruin the whole romantic gesture if I actually made you stand out here until you got sick."

"Just keep your arms around me and I'll be snug as a bug," Rachel hummed happily, stealing a final kiss from Quinn's warm lips before wrapping an arm around her waist, and allowing herself to be steered back towards the warmth of the auditorium.

"Brrr! That's better," Rachel sighed as they made their way back inside, leaning into Quinn's side to warm herself.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I'd be more than happy to lend you some body heat the old-fashioned way," Quinn murmured in Rachel's ear, slipping her fingers under the waistband of Rachel's skirt and rubbing teasingly over her hip.

"In the auditorium? Really? Somebody's coming out of her shell like _whoa_," Rachel purred happily, savoring the tingling goosebumps that ran up and down her arms at Quinn's teasing touch.

"Well, it _is_ late, and I'm pretty sure we're the only ones left in the building at this point anyway; so I doubt there's anyone here to walk in on us. But if you're too busy rehearsing…" Quinn's voice trailed off teasingly, as she made to pull herself out of Rachel's grip. The little starlet gave a furious squeak and locked her arms around her girlfriend before the blonde could take another step.

"Don't you dare! This is absolutely amazing, Quinn. I…sort of wanted us to do it on an empty stage for a long time, but I figured you'd never go for it, so I never bothered to ask. Plus, it's the perfect exercise for me to truly embody Maria's sexual awakening." Quinn raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Let me get this straight. You want to use our anniversary as a method acting exercise?"

"No!" Rachel gasped indignantly. "Well, yes, but _no!_ I mean, it would just be an ancillary benefit. Mostly I just wanna have super-hot sex with my gorgeous, brilliant, amazing girlfriend. _And_ commemorate the day when you made my heart complete, gave it wings, and taught it to fly."

"I did all that?" Quinn asked impishly, cocking her head at Rachel's suddenly shy smile. "I was a total mess back then, I didn't think I had anything to offer you. It was really all you, baby…you saved me, in a million different ways. And you were brave enough to kiss me first, when I _never _would've had the guts to kiss you."

"It was easy to be brave…once you let me start to see you," Rachel murmured, smoothing a lock of hair back behind Quinn's ear and gently stroking her warm cheek. "I always knew the bitchy queen bee act wasn't the real you…but I never thought, in all those years, that you could possibly feel about me the way I felt about you," Rachel admitted. Quinn sighed, pressing her hand over Rachel's on her cheek.

"That makes two of us," she joked weakly. "If I hadn't been so messed up over my feelings for you, I probably never would've turned into such a bitch to begin with. I never thought I was good enough for you, everything about me then was fake. I was in a constant state of panic."

"Well it sounds like we saved _each __other__, _doesn't it?" Rachel purred, smiling shyly when Quinn leaned down and began to nibble on the soft skin of her throat.

"I guess we did," the blonde girl agreed softly, a crooked half-smile full of innocent delight on her face as she pulled back. "It's working pretty well for me so far. What say we keep on doing it for another sixty or seventy years?" Rachel giggled, and kissed the end of Quinn's nose. Hands entwined, they scrambled back up onto the empty stage, stumbling a little because their eyes were glued to each other. Rachel pulled Quinn right to the center of the stage, where a single spotlight still shone on the empty set.

"Quinnie? Can I ask you something?" Rachel bit her lip, a hopeful expression in her deep brown eyes.

"I think we should wait 'till we move to New York to get married, Rach. It's legal there, y'know," Quinn teased gently, and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Yes, thank you, I wasn't planning to make _that_ proposal quite yet. I was just wondering…it's silly, but…would you sing something with me, before we…well, you know." Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"Um…sure, I guess. Is this part of your exhibitionist fantasy, my little gold star? Get you into a real performance head space before we put on our little sex show for the imaginary audience?"

"Actually, no…though when you put it that way, it does sound super-hot. But, what I really want is for you to help me with One Hand, One Heart. There's still something missing every time I rehearse it with Blaine, and really it's the most important number in the entire show. His voice is lovely of course, and our harmonies are technically flawless…but there's just…something missing. I think I need to sing it with you, just once."

"Oh," Quinn nodded dumbly, feeling her cheeks flush with sudden shyness, though it seemed silly in comparison to what they'd been discussing a moment ago. "Yeah, of course I'll sing with you, baby…but, I mean, you know I won't be able to do it the same as Blaine. I'll have to take it up a little, to something in the alto or mezzo-soprano zone. It'll be a different harmony."

"That's okay," Rachel agreed, beaming back bashfully at her girlfriend with her own face blushing bright pink. "It's not the music that's not working…it's me. I can't fully access the feeling of surrender to true love on my own. I need my angel for that." Quinn nodded, hastily wiping away a few stray tears that spilled down her cheeks as Rachel led her to the middle of the dress shop set, and they both knelt down among the strategically placed bolts of fabric, gently pressing their palms together as Quinn quietly began to sing.

Make of our hands, one hand,  
>Make of our hearts, one heart.<br>Make of our vows, one last vow;  
>Only death will part us now.<p>

Trembling, Rachel came in with Maria's part, her entire world whittled down to the bottomless hazel eyes staring back into hers.

Make of our lives, one life.

Day after day, one life.  
>Now it begins, Now we start;<br>One Hand, One Heart.  
>Even death won't part us now.<p>

…...

When the lights in the auditorium went off for the night an hour later, Quinn and Rachel had to scramble back into their clothes in the dark, giggling uncontrollably as they ran blindly for the door with their fingers locked together.

"I think we should rehearse together more," Quinn said offhandedly, with a huge, stupid grin on her face as she started the car.

"Most definitely," Rachel agreed, blushing delightedly as she absently crammed her bra and panties into her backpack. "How do you feel about, um..._rehearsing_ in the shower?"

"Oh, I'm definitely in favor of it. Like, right now." Quinn winked, and Rachel beamed. Happy anniversary, indeed.


	7. Tofurkey Wars

WHOAAAA formatting disaster! To those who saw this chap the way it was posted on Thanksgiving day, apologies for the unreadable part- I don't know WHAT happened. For some reason the whole second half of the chap uploaded as italics with no spaces between the words! I have no idea why. But it's fixed now- so, um, yeah, enjoy!

Happy Thxgiving,

-JW

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 7: Tofurkey Wars**

…...

"Rachel, you know I love you more than anything in the whole entire universe. But I am _not_ eating tofu on Thanksgiving, so just deal with it."

"It's not tofu, Quinn, it's tofurkey! And you haven't even tried it. You're not going to have a very good time in New York if you refuse to try new things, you know."

"I try new things all the time!" Quinn huffed indignantly, wiping her hands off on her apron after cramming the last of the stuffing into the turkey. "But Thanksgiving is not a time for innovation, it's a time for tradition. And I'm not trying to convert you to eating meat, so stop trying to convert me to your freaking tofurkey, okay?"

"Well pardon me for trying to expand your horizons," Rachel sighed, rolling her eyes with an unwilling smirk curling the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, I think you've expanded my horizons plenty," Quinn hummed, scooting around the kitchen island and reaching for her girlfriend, who shrieked and jumped back.

"Quinn! Your hands were just inside the raw turkey!" Rachel squealed, her expression aghast. "I know you don't expect me to start off our holiday cheer with a little salmonella poisoning."

"Yes dear," Quinn sighed with a wry grin, clasping her hands behind her back and giving Rachel a soft kiss before running to wash her hands at the sink. "Okay, turkey's all ready to go in the oven. Will you go tell my mom she can come start the biscuits now?"

"Sure baby." Rachel beamed and pranced out of the Fabrays' kitchen, running a hand through Quinn's hair as she passed, making the blonde girl giggle and tilt her head to the side like an overexcited toddler.

"Goof!" she called after Rachel's retreating back.

When the dark-haired girl returned with her girlfriend's mom at her heels, Quinn was whisking the fragrant pumpkin pie filling in a large mixing bowl. "Tell me again how I'm not open to trying new things," the blonde girl said sarcastically, holding out a pumpkin-dripping finger for Rachel to taste.

"You honestly expect me to taste uncooked pumpkin pie filling? There are raw eggs in there," Rachel balked, shrinking back from Quinn's extended hand.

"Actually, there aren't," Quinn raised an eyebrow smugly. "We're having vegan pumpkin pie this year. I made it with silken tofu."

"You did?" Rachel stared at her smirking girlfriend in disbelief, then looked to the older Fabray for confirmation.

"Yes, she absolutely did," Judy nodded, smiling in amusement as she tied an apron around her waist and began pulling out ingredients for the biscuits. "We had quite a discussion over the question of vegan Thanksgiving items this year, you know. It'll be easy enough to put aside some of the potatoes and stuffing before milk and butter is added, and you already saw the little Tofurkey we got for you; but for dessert, Quinnie really wanted to try this vegan pumpkin pie recipe she found online. Apparently it's virtually impossible to tell it's not the real thing."

"That's what she said," Quinn muttered under her breath, a satisfied smirk on her face at Rachel's flabbergasted expression. The little starlet gave an undignified chortle, and sucked her girlfriend's extended finger into her mouth.

"Uhmm, that's amazing," Rachel sighed happily, licking her lips. "I haven't had pumpkin pie since I went vegan!"

"_Who's_ the best girlfriend ever?" Quinn asked, beaming as she poured the filling into the waiting crust beside the stove.

"All you, baby," Rachel grinned back, kissing Quinn on the cheek.

…...

Once the pies were in the oven, Judy shooed the girls out of the kitchen to relax and enjoy the holiday (and perhaps to give her some peace in the kitchen, too). Quinn and Rachel put the time to good use by pulling out boxes and boxes of old Christmas decorations from the attic and adorning Quinn's room until it resembled a North Pole theme park. They spent over an hour untangling Christmas lights, hanging candy canes, and listening to holiday-themed music on Pandora, eventually ending up making out on the tinsel-covered bed before Rachel's dads arrived, and called them down to dinner.

"Do I have any lipstick on my teeth?" Rachel asked as she smoothed down her mussed hair and tucked her shirt back into her skirt.

"Let me see...nope." Quinn ducked down and stole another kiss, making Rachel squeal in protest as she was backed up against the door.

"Quinn, stop it! Our parents are downstairs waiting for us! What if they come up to find out what's taking so long?"

"Then we'll sit them down and explain that they're big enough boys and girls now to know where babies come from," Quinn murmured huskily against Rachel's throat. They were both giggling uncontrollably, hands wandering under shirts, when a sharp knock sounded on the door right up against Rachel's back. The little starlet gave an undignified squeak of alarm, practically body-slamming Quinn in her haste to get away from the door before it was opened.

"We were just fixing our makeup!" The dark-haired girl panted guiltily as her daddy's head poked around the bedroom door.

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Michael raised an eyebrow skeptically. Quinn covered her mouth to hide her self-satisfied smirk as the two of them shared a wry glance of acknowledgment. "I'm sorry, girls, but I didn't come up here to curb your recreational activities. Your friend Santana just arrived, and she's...well, I don't know what happened, but she's downstairs crying. I think you'd both better come down."

"Santana's crying?" Quinn's face was blank with shock. She tried to remember ever having seen Santana cry...but she couldn't. Not even the time she fell off the cheerleading pyramid and dislocated her shoulder. Hurriedly, she rushed past Rachel's father and ran down the stairs.

They found Santana sitting in the living room with Judy, sobbing unabashedly as Mrs. Fabray tried to comfort her. When Quinn and Rachel walked in, the older Fabray looked up with an expression of firm determination in her eyes.

"Quinn, honey, go set another place at the table. Santana's going to stay with us for a while."

"Of course," Quinn nodded dumbly; but instead of going to the kitchen for an extra plate, she sat down on Santana's other side, and hesitantly reached out to rub her back. "San? What happened?" The Latina girl snorted and wiped her eyes on a crumpled tissue.

"If you have to ask that, you obviously haven't had the TV on all day."

"No, we haven't," Rachel shook her head bemusedly, unable to understand what could've possibly happened on TV that would make Santana cry.

"Yeah, well, you'll see it soon enough. It's all Coach Sue's fault, her and her stupid congressional campaign. If she hadn't run, then her asshole opponent wouldn't be using my private life as fodder for his smear campaign."

"What?" Rachel gasped, mouth hanging open in frank astonishment.

"I just got outed on public freaking television!" Santana shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the Fabrays' TV though it wasn't even on. "My mom saw it while she was stuffing the turkey. She threw a can of cranberry sauce at my head! She was screaming about Santería and how the ancestors would weep if they saw my disgrace. Then she threw me out on my ass. On fucking Thanksgiving Day!" The sobbing girl caught herself up short then, wiping her eyes with a guilty look at Mrs. Fabray. "Um, sorry Mrs. F."

"Oh, sweetheart, it's all right. After what you've just been through, I think you're more than entitled to a bit of cursing." Judy squeezed Santana's shoulder, her smile full of compassion. "I'll talk to your mother, we'll all help your family adjust, I promise."

"Thank you," Santana whispered, smiling weakly.

"Does Britt know?" Quinn asked gently, pushing the kleenex box on the coffee table closer to her sniffling friend.

"No, she's in Akron at her grandparents'," Santana sighed, pulling out a fresh tissue and wiping roughly at her eyes and nose. "I don't want to ruin her Thanksgiving, there's nothing she can do right now anyway. I'll give her a heads' up tomorrow, but I doubt her family will care. They've never had a problem with our relationship." With a sniff, Santana looked up at her friends, and smiled weakly. "I'm really sorry for messing up your Thanksgiving, chicas."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Quinn said firmly, and Rachel nodded in staunch agreement.

"We're your friends, there will always be a place for you at our table."

"And your mother will come around, sweetheart," Judy said, tilting Santana's chin up and giving her a warm smile of encouragement. "I speak from experience. She's angry and confused right now...but soon she'll be missing you, and remembering what a wonderful daughter you've always been. And until then, you'll stay right here with us."

"Thank you," Santana sniffed sadly, throwing her arms around Judy's neck and hugging her fiercely. Quinn kissed the top of Santana's head, and went to rustle up an extra place setting for the Thanksgiving table. Behind her back, she heard Rachel offering to share her tofurkey, and Santana responding that she'd rather eat the burnt gristle off the bottom of the turkey pan. It was oddly comforting.

…...

It was a small table, even with the last-minute addition of Santana; just Quinn and Judy, Rachel and her dads. Quinn thought this was just as well, imagining how Santana would react to strangers right now in her current state of mind (though a tiny part of her did enjoy the idea of her acerbic friend tearing Rachel's obnoxious grandfather a new one if given the chance). The food was amazing, even Rachel's tofurkey (which Quinn eventually gave in and sampled, admitting that it was "not bad if you close your eyes"). They talked about college applications, and what neighborhoods they most wanted to live in once they all made it to New York. While they were all praising Quinn's surprisingly delicious vegan pumpkin pie, the phone rang- and, hoping that it might be Santana's parents, Judy answered.

"Honey, it's for you," Judy smiled, waving the phone at Quinn as she came back into the dining room.

"But we're in the middle of dinner," Quinn frowned, used to her mother refusing any phone calls during the dinner hour, especially a holiday dinner.

"This is a special case. Beth has something to say to you."

"Beth does?" Quinn's eyes lit up, and she jumped for the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi Quinn, it's Jack," Beth's daddy said over the phone. "Can you grab your laptop for a quick Skype? Bethy just said a new word, and we wanted you to be the first one after us to hear it."

"Of course!" Quinn squealed, dashing up the stairs to grab her laptop. Five minutes later, she was in the living room, surrounded by her excited family as the videochat session came up, and everyone could see eighteen-month-old Beth cooing and giggling with her dads on screen.

"Bethy, look! Who's what?" Rob pointed to the screen, and Beth's hazel eyes turned to look at Quinn through the camera.

"Mama!" she gurgled happily, her chubby little hands reaching out and patting the screen. Quinn's eyes immediately filled up with tears.

"Hi, baby girl," she said softly, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face as the entire room beamed over her shoulder. "Oh my goodness, you're getting so big now! Are you having a big Thanksgiving feast with Daddy and Papa?"

"Mama, Mama," Beth trilled, and Quinn couldn't stop the tears from spilling over and streaking down her face.

"I swear we did not intend for this to happen," Jack said, waving over Beth's shoulder on the computer screen. "We were just showing her pictures of everyone in our extended family who couldn't come to Thanksgiving dinner...and then we showed her one of you...and she recognized you, obviously."

"She really knows who I am?" Quinn beamed, wiping the tears absently from her eyes so she wouldn't miss one second of Beth's gap-toothed smile.

"Apparently she does," Jack nodded. "We don't want to intrude on your family's holiday, but obviously we knew you'd want to see and hear it for yourself."

"Thank you, Jack. Thank you so much," Quinn gushed, wiping away more tears as Rachel gently rubbed her back. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Quinn." Jack waved, and then said to Beth, "Can you say bye-bye to Mama, Bethy?"

"Bye-bye," Beth waved, grinning. Then the screen went black.

"Oh, God..." Quinn sighed, shaking her head in dazed astonishment. Then she sniffled back a few more tears.

"Guess I'm not the only one using these today," Santana said wryly, pushing the box of kleenex across the coffee table to Quinn.

"Thanks, San," Quinn smiled weakly, leaning into Rachel's arm as she dabbed lightly at her red eyes.

"Well I don't know about anyone else, but I think this calls for a proper toast. Judy, I know you've got a few tasty vintage bottles squirreled away around here," Jacob said briskly, rubbing his hands together with a wink.

"Oh, yes, I certainly do," Judy nodded, beaming in a distinctly grandmotherly way. "Girls, you know I don't normally approve of underage drinking, but I think this is a special enough occasion to make an exception."

"Oh hell yeah," Santana exclaimed enthusiastically as the bottle came out, and six glasses were poured. "Maybe we should call up lovechild again tomorrow and see what else she has to say, eh?"

"Shut up, you're ruining my Hallmark moment," Quinn huffed, but she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"To Beth," Jacob said, raising his glass. "May she always be blessed." With a clink, they all drank.

"You realize what this new living arrangement means," Rachel murmured under her breath, nodding to Santana, who was covertly pouring herself another glass of wine while the adults were all distracted. Quinn just raised an eyebrow. "It means we're never getting naked at your house again. Even money says she'll be waiting to ambush us with the video camera every chance she gets."


	8. Timing is Everything

Hey Faberry fans!

Has anyone else noticed how many of my song choices for Quinn & Rachel in TMAIA end up going to Kurt & Blaine on the actual show? Tasty Faberry treats and shout-outs to anyone who can identify 'em!

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter…more than most of us enjoyed last week's episode. There is a mild angst warning for the end. As a final note, the song in this chap is "I Kissed a Girl" by Jill Sobule, NOT Katy Perry. I don't hate Katy Perry in general, but _damn_ is that song obnoxious. I do not deem it worthy of Santana's coming out anthem. If anyone hasn't heard the Jill Sobule version before, PLEASE go on YouTube and have a listen before you read this chap! It's completely sweet and adorable, and you'll have a much easier time picturing the glee girls busting it out in the choir room if you do. Cheers! :)

- JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 8: Timing is Everything**

…...

"'Sup Thumbelina? Ready to gear up for some serious ass-kicking at Sectionals?" Santana gave the shorter girl a very slight nod of acknowledgement from the passenger seat of Quinn's car as Rachel came hurrying out the front door of her house on the Monday after Thanksgiving.

"Back seat, Santana." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed, as she stood waiting expectantly on the curb.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Santana raised one eyebrow haughtily. "What happened to the whole, 'we'll always be here for you in your hour of need' thing? Or was that just for the actual day that my parents disowned me?"

"San, please, just let my girlfriend ride shotgun," Quinn rolled her eyes, smirking in quiet amusement at her best friend's glowering pout as she climbed over the seat, leaving the front passenger seat free for one rather cranky-looking little starlet.

"Thank you," Rachel said primly as she climbed into the car and smoothed down her skirt, leaning across the seat to give her girlfriend a good morning kiss.

"You okay, Rach? You seem a little tense," Quinn frowned, pulling away from the curb with one eye on the road, and the other on her sulky girlfriend.

"I _am_ a little tense," Rachel huffed. "All our college applications are due by the end of the week, and we still don't have a set list finalized for Sectionals, _and_ I spent an hour on the phone with Kurt last night trying to convince him that his acceptance to Julliard doesn't hinge on whether he gets elected class president."

"Well good, 'cause no way is Elton John Junior beating out my Brits in the presidential department," Santana grinned snarkily from the back seat. "People at this school don't wanna be lectured about littering and sugary snacks in the vending machines. They just wanna see my girl standing up at that dumb podium reading the announcements at assembly. Preferably in booty shorts."

"Can you shut up for three goddam seconds, Santana?" Rachel snapped. Quinn raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback, while the smug Latina just chuckled in the backseat, obviously pleased to get a rise off the dark-haired starlet so early in the morning.

"Rachel," Quinn reprimanded gently, taking her hand over the gearshift and giving it a little squeeze.

"Dang, shortcake, you've got your panties in a twist today," Santana shrugged, sitting back and raising an eyebrow at the huffy look on the shorter girl's face. "Are you PMSing or something?"

"I'm sorry," Rachel sighed, closing her eyes briefly as Quinn reached over and rubbed the back of her neck. "There's just...a lot at stake right now, for all of us. And I have to admit I'm feeling a rather heavy burden of responsibility to ensure that we all do ourselves justice at Sectionals and make the most of our academic opportunities."

"Honey, that's not all up to you," Quinn said gently, keeping one hand on the back of Rachel's neck and gently kneading the tense muscles under her collar. "We're a team, remember? We always do best when we're working all together, and that's not changing anytime soon. Don't put it all on your shoulders, okay? It's just too much to handle on top of your regular pre-competition jitters, and I think it's really starting to wear you down."

"Yeah, I know," Rachel sighed, leaning back against the head rest and glancing over at her girlfriend with a weary smile of commiseration. "You're right as usual."

"Geez Q, when did you get her trained so good? I never heard Thumbelina say anybody else was right before. I should be taking notes or something," Santana snickered gleefully. Rachel groaned and closed her eyes. She could already tell it was going to be a _very_ long week.

…...

By the time they got to glee rehearsal that afternoon, it seemed that the entire school had heard the tawdry tale of Santana's public outing, her parents' rejection, and the fact that she was now staying at Quinn's. As usual, the fiery Latina didn't take kindly to being pitied by her fellow students; she wanted to be worshipped and feared, not seen as a charity case. It was almost comforting to see Finn's earnest attempt at sympathetic emotional support met with Santana's dismissive, "Worry about yourself, fetus face."

"What about me?" Brittany asked gently, squeezing Santana's shoulder while the rest of the club chuckled at Finn's rebuff. "I'm worried about you too, Santi. I'm worried what might happen to you if you keep pushing the best part of yourself down...the parts I get to see when it's just the two of us."

"That's what _I'm_ talkin' about," Puck leered, leaning forward in his seat with a suggestive look in his eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows piggishly. "Go on, Brittany, tell us more about the awesomeness of girl-on-girl alone time. And don't leave out the details." With a snarl, Santana jumped out of her seat and punched Puck in the face. Completely unprepared for the attack, the mohawked boy fell sideways out of his seat, his feet going up over his head with an undignified grunt.

"Fuck off, Puckerman! You think I fell in love with Brittany to give you masturbation fantasies?" she yelled, her cheeks flushing bright red as Quinn, Brittany and Mike Chang all jumped up to restrain her.

"Jesus. Homegirl can throw a punch," Puck muttered, looking more impressed than angry as he lay on the floor massaging his jaw.

"Santana, that's enough!" Mr. Schue yelled, pushing himself between the bickering students and forcing them all to take a step back.

"Okay, okay! I'm calm," Santana snapped, shrugging off the anxious hands holding her back and crossing her arms stiffly over her chest.

"That's the first time you ever said you love me in front of other people," Brittany said quietly, beaming at her flush-faced girlfriend, who smiled shyly back.

"Yeah, well...I do. I love you," Santana shrugged, reaching out for Brittany's hand. "And it's not like these idiots don't know it. Why shouldn't I say it? I mean...it feels kind of awesome to say it."

"I thought maybe we could sing about it, too," Brittany grinned, squeezing Santana's hand. "That is, if the rest of the girls don't mind helping out." Quinn, Rachel, Tina and Mercedes all nodded, and took the xeroxed sheet music that the tall blonde cheerio handed them. "Puck, will you play your guitar for us?"

"As long as I don't get punched again," he said with a grin and a little wink for Santana. She rolled her eyes, but returned his impish grin. Then he started to strum his guitar, and with the girls humming softly in the background, Santana turned to face Brittany and started to sing.

_Jenny came over and told me 'bout Brad  
>He's such a hairy behemoth, she said<br>Dumb as a box of hammers  
>But he's such a handsome guy.<em>

_And I opened up and I told her 'bout Larry_  
><em>And yesterday how he asked me to marry<em>  
><em>And I'm not giving him an answer yet<em>  
><em>I think I can do better!<em>

_So we laughed  
>Compared notes<br>We had a drink  
>We had a smoke<br>She took off her overcoat..._

_I kissed a girl.  
>I kissed a girl.<em>

_She called home to say she'd be late_  
><em>He said he'd worried but now he'd feel safe—<em>  
><em>I'm glad your with your girlfriend<em>  
><em>Tell her "hi" for me.<em>

The girls were all dancing around the choir room now, playfully spinning and dipping each other; then Brittany stepped up and took Santana's hand, singing the next verse to her girlfriend with the sweetest, most innocent smile imaginable. Thankfully, the boys all had the sense not to hoot or wolf-whistle, none of them keen for a repeat demonstration of Santana's fists.

_And then I looked at you  
>You had guilt in your eyes<br>But it only lasted a little while  
>And then I felt your hand above my knee.<em>

_And we laughed_  
><em>At the world<em>  
><em>They can have their diamonds<em>  
><em>And we'll have our pearls...<em>

_I kissed a girl.  
>I kissed a girl!<em>

Then all the girls joined in for an impromptu harmony, Tina and Mercedes playfully waltzing together on one side of the two Cheerios, while Quinn and Rachel spun each other around (a bit more gracefully, because they'd had plenty of practice dancing together) on the other side. Quinn glanced over the top of Rachel's head and noticed Blaine and Kurt beaming down at them; and when she smiled up at them, Kurt gave her a little wink. Quinn winked back, then cocked her head and wiggled her eyebrows at Rachel, who couldn't help smiling back as they waltzed playfully around the choir room.

_Kissed a girl,  
>Her lips were sweet.<br>She was just like kissing me, but better_

_Kissed a girl won't change the world  
>But I'm so glad,<br>I kissed a girl!_

_And we laughed_  
><em>At the world<em>  
><em>They can have their diamonds and<em>  
><em>We'll have our pearls...<em>

_I kissed a girl!_  
><em>For the first time<em>  
><em>I kissed a girl<em>  
><em>And I may do it again!<em>  
><em>I kissed a girl.<em>  
><em>I kissed a girl.<em>

The boys all roared with cheers when the song was done, and Puck stood up and offered his hand to Santana, with a brotherly nod of peace and goodwill. Santana laughed, a huge smile plastered across her face, and hugged him.

"Fantastic, ladies! Well done," Mr. Schue clapped, taking the floor back as the girls all took their seats. "This is what I'm talking about— _this_ is how we're going to get ready for Sectionals. By being true to ourselves with our music. Singing about what we might have trouble saying in our everyday lives. For this week's assignment..."

Mr. Schue prattled on about song selections, but Quinn wasn't really listening once she looked over at Rachel. The poor thing looked just as stressed out as she had in the car that morning, her eyes out of focus as she gazed up at Mr. Schuester with her head leaning wearily on her hand. Quinn had been so sure that the number they'd just done had helped her girlfriend relax, at least for a little while; but Rachel looked like she was on the verge of a minor meltdown—and there were still two weeks before Sectionals. Quinn felt a stab on anxiety as she realized just how stressed out her girlfriend was right now, about everything.

"Hey," the blonde girl murmured, nudging her little diva gently. Rachel sat up a little straighter and raised an eyebrow at the questioning look. _You__ okay?_ Quinn mouthed silently. Rachel nodded, giving her girlfriend a fatigued half-smile. Quinn frowned worriedly. As if to assuage the blonde girl's concern, the stressed out starlet scooted her chair a little closer and put her head on Quinn's shoulder. With a sigh, Quinn kissed the top of Rachel's head, trying to force her attention back on the lesson. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Santana and Brittany in a similarly intimate position, and she caught her best friend's eye with a small smile of commiseration. Santana beamed back at her. At least the day hadn't been totally wasted, even if Quinn hadn't yet figured out the right way to dial back her girlfriend's pre-competition stress level. She still had two weeks to figure it out; hopefully, Rachel wouldn't implode before then.

…..

"Q, you know we're too old for stuffed animals now, right?" Santana flopped down on Quinn's bed in her pajamas and grabbed the fluffy stuffed monster off her pillow, shaking it with a little snicker of wry delight. "Especially this one. It's redonkulous."

"Rachel gave him to me when I was sick," the blonde girl huffed protectively, grabbing her beloved stuffed monster from Santana's arms and hugging it tightly to her chest. "Appa's awesome. And certainly no less ridiculous than Boo-Boo Duck." Santana blushed when Quinn reminded her of the equally ridiculous stuffed animal _she__'__d_ given Brittany, after a cheerleading injury three years ago.

"Whatever, at least a duck is a recognizable animal. If you lost that freaky thing at a hotel or something, what would you tell the front desk guy to look for?"

"A six-legged flying bison with horns and an arrow on its head," Quinn replied simply, smirking at Santana upside-down as she bounced onto the bed on her back, letting her head hang over the edge as she stretched her legs and held her stuffed monster up in the air, as if he were flying.

"Clever, Fabray. You and your weird stuffed animal are definitely getting into college." With a devious little chuckle, Santana grabbed the fluffy toy from Quinn's arms and bolted from the room.

"Santana! Get your ass back here with my Appa!" Quinn rolled off the bed and ran after her giggling friend, chasing her down the stairs, around the living room, and into the kitchen before crashing into a strange man pouring milk into mugs of hot tea at the kitchen table.

"Oof! Sorry, dude. Who exactly are you?" Santana raised an eyebrow at the stranger, now wiping at the milk stain on his shirt, with her arms crossed suspiciously. Quinn ran in behind her and grabbed her stuffed animal back from her friend's arms, smacking her in the back of the head for good measure.

"Nice manners," the blonde girl muttered, with a little half-smirk as she grabbed a few napkins from the table and bent to clean up the spilled milk.

"You must be Santana," the stranger smiled warmly. He looked to be in his late 50's or early 60's, with kind blue eyes, graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard, wearing a (now somewhat soggy) plaid flannel shirt and gray Dockers. Santana raised an eyebrow warily. "Your reputation precedes you, young lady. And this must be Quinn," he went on, offering his hand to the confused blonde girl. "Your mother hasn't stopped raving about you. I'm Tom Miller, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Um…hi?" Quinn blinked bemusedly at her mom as she shook the older man's hand.

"Honey, Tom and I met at the PFLAG group Rachel's dads took us all to last week. Your friends Kurt and Finn's parents came too, and Brittany's father. We're trying to convince your mother to join us, Santana, but I'm afraid we're not quite there yet."

"Oh…yeah, okay, I guess. I mean—thanks, Mrs. F. That's really cool of you." Santana smiled sheepishly. Judy beamed. Quinn cleared her throat.

"So is this a date or something?" The blonde girl asked uneasily. Judy's cheeks flushed bright pink, just like Quinn's did when she was nervous or embarrassed, and she glared at her daughter pointedly.

"Right now your mother and I are just getting to know each other better, Quinn. But I do hope that she will permit me the pleasure of courting her in a more official capacity in the not terribly distant future." Judy's blush glowed even brighter. Quinn and Santana looked at each other, both of them biting back the torrent of giggles that threatened to escape.

"Okay, well, that's…um, yeah," Quinn shrugged, utterly tongue-tied at the unique and unprecedented event of her mother bringing home a new man. Not that Quinn begrudged her mother a date—she was both divorced and widowed, after all—it was just a little weird. "Well…it was nice to meet you, Tom. I guess we're, um, going upstairs now." Santana poked Quinn in the back all the way up the stairs, and it was all the blonde girl could do to stop herself from bursting into hysterical giggles before they'd reached the privacy of the second floor.

"Quinn's getting a new daddy," the Latina sang teasingly, jumping onto Quinn's bed in a fit of laughter.

"Shut up, doofus. And go spend some time in your own room, will you? It's right down the hall, in case you forgot. I wanna call Rachel."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. But as soon as I go, you'll miss me…" Santana blew Quinn a kiss as she ducked out the door. Quinn rolled her eyes, grabbed her cell phone and hit the first number on the speed dial. There was no answer, but Quinn was pretty sure Rachel was home by this time of night, so she tried dialing the Berry's landline instead. Again, no answer. A little odd, but certainly not worrying—maybe Rachel's dads had noticed how stressed out their little starlet had become the last few weeks, and were out trying to force her to have a little fun somewhere, getting vegan ice cream or looking at the newly erected Christmas lights around town.

With a shrug, Quinn left a message and turned to the last of her homework. But almost before she had opened the book, her phone buzzed with a new message. With a sigh, the blonde girl dropped her book and flipped the phone open to read the text from her girlfriend: _Sorry,__ can__'__t __answer__ the __phone.__ Tonsillitis__ came__ back.__ Dads__ say __I__ have __2__ have__ the__ surgery.__ Can__'__t__ sing__ at__ Sectionals.__ Tell__ everyone__ I__'__m__ sorry._

As soon as she read the message, Quinn jumped up from the bed, yanked a pair of sweatpants on over her pajamas, and grabbed her car keys, breaking at least half a dozen traffic laws as she sped across town in her little red Chevy. Jacob answered the door with the same warm smile as always, and Quinn hugged him tightly, pouring out all her anxiety for her girlfriend into the warm, fatherly arms around her. "Is she gonna be okay?" the blonde girl asked meekly, terrified of the answer.

"She's going to be just fine, Quinnie. We knew this was going to have to happen eventually, and to be honest, Michael and I much prefer to get it over with before she leaves for college. She won't be able to sing at Sectionals next week, but after this she'll never have to worry about tonsillitis again. Better now than on Broadway, right?"

"Of course," Quinn nodded dazedly, hugely relieved that Rachel's health wasn't in serious danger. "But, what about the risks? Will her voice be the same…after?"

"Honey, every surgery has risks," Jacob shrugged with a sigh. "_Any_ time general anesthesia is used, there's a small chance of death. But thousands of people still get necessary surgeries every day. There's an even _smaller_ chance here that this surgery could alter or impair Rachel's singing voice. But Michael managed to pull some strings at the hospital, and we've got the best Ear, Nose and Throat specialist in the state coming in to do the surgery tomorrow."

_"__Tomorrow?__"_ Quinn squeaked, her stomach clenching anxiously all over again. "But that's so soon…"

"The sooner it's done, the sooner it'll be over, and you girls can get back to singing for your supper," Jacob joked, patting Quinn lightly on the back.

"Can I see her?"

"If she'll let you in," Jacob sighed. "Her door's been locked all evening—she's furious with us for making her get the surgery. Not that I was expecting any other reaction." Quinn nodded glumly. "She'll be fine, Quinn." Jacob squeezed the blonde girl's shoulder reassuringly and kissed the top of her head. "Now go see if you can't cheer her up a little with that ten-thousand watt smile of yours."

"'Kay," Quinn nodded, anxiously climbing the familiar stairs to Rachel's room. "Rach?" Quinn knocked tentatively. "Open up, little star, it's just me." The door stayed closed. With a sigh, the blonde girl knocked again. "C'mon baby, let me in. I just wanna make you feel better…" After another useless minute of talking to the closed door, Quinn's phone buzzed with a new message_.__Go __away.__ I __am __not__ exposing __you__ to__ my __germs __a__ week __before __sectionals._

"Rachelllllll," Quinn groaned, banging her head against the door. "Don't be an idiot, you can't protect me from breathing. We've been through this before, haven't we? You take care of me, I take care of you. Now let me in." Again, her request was met with the buzz of a new message on her cell phone. _GO __THE__ FUCK __AWAY. __I__ AM __NOT __LETTING __YOU __IN._

"Baby…please," Quinn begged softly, tears welling up and burning her eyes as she leaned against the closed door that separated her from the girl she loved, who was all alone and in pain on the other side. "I'll be careful, okay? I'll wash my hands and take extra vitamins when I get home, and I promise I won't kiss you. But you have to let me help you…I _can__'__t_ just let you suffer all alone when I'm standing _right __here_. I know you're really, really upset and freaked out right now, but it's gonna be okay Rach, I swear, you're gonna be okay. Please, just let me in so I can hold you…" Finally, a note was shoved under the door, hitting the toes of Quinn's Converse. She quickly bent down, wiping hastily at her teary eyes as she picked it up.

__Quinn, you are making this harder, not easier_. _I realize I have absolutely no say in what happens to me now, but I thought that you at least would listen to me, even if my dads won't. And I am asking you to go away and leave me ALONE. The longer you stand out there crying, the worse you're making me feel. I am NOT letting you in here. We CANNOT afford for anyone else to catch tonsillitis a week before Sectionals. So please, for the love of God, listen to what I am saying and GET OUT OF HERE. NOW. __

"Okay," Quinn whispered when she'd finished reading, wiping her eyes and sniffling her tears back sharply. "I'll…I'll go now. But I'm leaving something to help you feel better, starlight." She unzipped her backpack and pulled out the beloved stuffed monster, leaving it on the floor right in front of Rachel's door. "I'll come see you as soon as you're out of surgery, okay baby? And you can't stop me." Quinn kissed her palm and pressed it to Rachel's door. "Love you," she whispered dejectedly. Then she turned and walked away, wondering miserably what she was going to tell the rest of the glee club tomorrow.


	9. Arroz con Leche

Hey all!

So here's a funny thing that happened to me this week: when my friends and I were watching Glee on Tuesday night, during the scene at Sectionals where they're watching the Unitards perform (led by the "Gerber Baby" girl from the Glee Project), when Kurt leans over and whispers to Rachel, "This is excruciating," and she whispers back, "I know! I should be singing this song!" My brain said, "No Rachel, don't talk, you're gonna hurt your voice!" ...Then I remembered that the inside of my head is not canon. I think that was the first time I ever genuinely forgot that. Kind of hilarious!

And I was a little surprised that no one got my faberry/klaine song stealing question from last week, since so many of y'all messaged me in extreme excitement when punk!Quinn came to town, remembering that I had (inadvertently) predicted it in the last season of TMAIA (chapter 42), and wondering if I had magical powers or advanced copies of scripts. I have neither! But I do have vision for these characters we love so much...and it seems that many of the adorable gay couple songs I've picked out for faberry have also appealed to the writers for klaine. Here they are, for those who were curious (all from last season of TMAIA): Teenage Dream (chp. 19), Baby it's Cold Outside (chp. 26), & Fuckin' Perfect (chp. 45). I do feel it's worth pointing out that I thought of all these songs first! The Glee writers totally stole 'em from me ;)

Well that was certainly a long author's note. On with the faberry! Enjoy :)

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 9: Arroz con Leche**

…...

Quinn was still puffy-eyed and sniffling when she got home, but managed to slip upstairs unnoticed by her mom, who was either in bed already or else still cavorting with her gentleman caller. Either way, Quinn didn't care—she just wanted to be left alone to cry without anyone trying to make her feel better. Rachel was in pain and all alone, and wouldn't allow any help or comfort, and now Sectionals was in jeopardy as well. That, frankly, wouldn't ruffle Quinn's feathers all that much if not for the fact that it was so important to Rachel, too.

This, Quinn knew, was one of her girlfriend's biggest nightmare scenarios; it wasn't hard to recall how hard the little starlet had fought against having surgery the last time her tonsils had flared up two years ago, convinced it would impair her singing voice and possibly ruin her career before it even began. And while the blonde girl trusted Rachel's dad when he told her that everything would be just fine, she also knew that _Rachel_ didn't believe that; and that was what caused Quinn the awful, stabbing pain in her chest as she slipped quietly into her room and curled up in bed, sobbing into her pillow.

Certainly, their relationship had survived some awful fights in the past; they'd been together more than two years, after all, and they'd always managed to weather the storm. But this didn't feel like a fight. It wasn't Rachel being mad at her that hurt; it was Rachel's pain, Rachel's suffering, that Quinn felt acutely in the pit of her stomach. She just wanted the chance to offer comfort, to cuddle and soothe her sweet baby, make her tea and rub her back and sing her to sleep, the way Rachel always did when _she_ was sick. Not being allowed to do those things made her feel useless and broken, and tied her stomach up in knots so severe, Quinn actually felt like she might throw up. She hugged her pillow tighter, curled up in the middle of her bed in a sobbing ball of misery, when a soft knock sounded on her door.

"Q? You okay, mija? I'm coming in." Santana's voice was gentler than usual; a moment later, Quinn felt her friend's warm weight sinking into the mattress beside her, and a hand slip up the back of her sweatshirt, lightly rubbing her back in soothing circles. "Talk to me, chica. Did you have a fight with Thumbelina? Whatever it is, you know she'll see sense and beg your forgiveness by morning. She couldn't stay mad at you if her life depended on it."

"No, it's not that," Quinn sniffled, finally raising her head from the tearstained pillow. "Sh-she's sick and she has to have her tonsils out and she w-won't let me in 'cause she doesn't want me to catch it, and she's just s-so upset, I j-just wanna help..."

"Whoa, whoa, shhh," Santana murmured, reaching over for a tissue from the bedside table and handing it to her shaking friend. "Cálmate, mija, calm down..." Quinn took the offering and clumsily wiped her tear-streaked face and runny nose, trying to ease her jagged breathing while Santana rubbed her back and stroked her hair without saying a word.

"Thanks," Quinn sighed woozily, when she was sure she was all cried out. "Sorry for unloading on you like that, San."

"Q, please. I'm _living in your house._ How many times have I unravelled on you? And you _always_ listen, you always help, even when I'm a complete puta. I think you and your girl both have the same problem, you know?"

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Quinn chuckled wearily, taking a fresh tissue and dabbing at her red eyes.

"You love taking care of other people, but you have a damn hard time letting anyone else take care of _you_ when you need it," Santana shrugged, as if it were obvious. Which, Quinn realized as soon as it had been said, it totally was.

"I just don't like feeling like a burden on anyone else...except Rachel, I guess," Quinn shrugged, looking down at her hands with a soft sniffle of embarrassment. "It reminds me of how I felt when my parents kicked me out...before she rode in on her white horse and saved me...I felt so alone and so scared and so abandoned, but I just couldn't bear to ask anyone for help. I didn't want to be a charity case."

"I'm really sorry, Q," Santana said quietly, reaching out and tucking a stray lock of mussed blonde hair back behind Quinn's ear. "I should've been there for you. I should've been the one to look out for you, after all the years we've been friends. But I was selfish and screwed up, and I didn't wanna deal with my mom freaking out about teen pregnancy if I brought you home knocked up and homeless. And now here I am, depending on you, when I've never given you any reason to depend on me. Why do you put up with me, seriously? Why does anyone?"

"For the same reason everyone put up with me when I was a scary bitch," Quinn shrugged, smiling weakly and poking her best friend between the ribs. "Because they can see through all the crazy to the awesomeness inside, and they're willing to wait it out. Plus, you're kind of fun to have around." Santana snickered, and Quinn's sad smile widened until she found herself giggling, too, releasing some of the stress and tension her body was holding onto so tightly.

"Thanks, mija. I'm really sorry about Rachel. So I guess this means she can't sing at Sectionals, huh? She's gonna be okay, though, right?"

"Yeah, I think so," Quinn sighed, lying back down on her tearstained pillow and curling up with her forehead pressed against Santana's leg, wrapping one arm loosely around her friend's knee. Santana didn't object to being used as a life-sized stuffed animal substitute, and began quietly running her fingers through Quinn's pink-streaked hair. "But she's not okay now. And being shut out like this...it hurts worse than when she's furious and screaming at me. It _physically_ hurts, San. Like someone just reached in and ripped out my guts."

"Lovely image," Santana snorted. "Look babe, I know how you feel—I'd feel the same way if it was Britt. Hell, I _have_ felt the same way. You think I bought her that damn stuffed duck because I thought it was cute? I _hate_ that kind of cutesy crap. But she was hurt and in pain, and I knew it would make her feel better when nothing else did. Love makes us all a little crazy. That's all this is, you know—she's just trying to protect you. It's stupid, but I get it. She's been protecting you ever since you guys got together. It comes as naturally to her as it does to me with Britt."

"Yeah," Quinn sighed, rubbing her stinging eyes as wave of exhaustion rolled over her. "But she's _not_ protecting me, she just thinks she is. I'd rather catch her stupid germs than have to feel like this."

"I know, mija. And after this is over and she's back to her old self, you'll tell her that, and she'll understand, and maybe your relationship will even be stronger because of it. But she can't hear you right now, while she's all sick and stressed and freaked out. You gotta let her deal on her own, just for a little while...show her she can trust you, the way you always trust her."

"Mmm," Quinn murmured, yawning softly as her tired eyes slowly drifted shut. "You're smart, San..."

"Yeah, I know. You'd be lost without me," Santana teased gently, continuing to stroke Quinn's silk-soft hair as another woozy yawn gripped the blonde girl's limp body. "Want me to go turn off the lights so you can go to sleep, querida?"

"No...stay," Quinn murmured, not bothering to open her eyes. "Sing me a lullaby, San? Just...couple more minutes..."

"Sure thing," Santana smiled softly, though Quinn couldn't see it. She wouldn't sing any of the love songs she sang for Brittany of course; and though it made her a little sad to think about her mom, she couldn't help but smile when the memory of some of her own favorite childhood lullabies popped into her head. Quietly, Santana began to sing.

Arroz con leche, me quiero casar

con una señorita de la capital,

que sepa coser,

que sepa contar,

que sepa abrir la puerta

para ir a jugar.

Yo soy la viudita, del barrio del rey,

Me quiero casar y no hallo con quien:

con este, si, con este, no;

contigo, mi vida, me casare yo.

…...

The glee club was extremely sympathetic when Quinn told them about Rachel's tonsil woes the next day; Mercedes and Tina suggested they all go cheer the sick girl up with a surprise visit after practice, and everyone agreed enthusiastically before Quinn explained glumly that they'd never be allowed in the door, as Rachel was currently ensconced in a self-imposed quarantine to protect the rest of them for Sectionals—besides which, she was already at the hospital undergoing surgery. They were all surprised and touched by the selfless gesture, and Mr. Schue declared that the best thing they could do now to make their star feel better was to put together an amazing show at Sectionals, so that when she got back, they could greet her with good news and look forward to Regionals together.

They spent the rest of practice hashing out a Rachel-free set list, finally agreeing on the iconic Thriller/Heads Will Roll mashup from last year, which they'd all loved and had never performed for a competition; along with a new but equally powerful Adele mashup of Rumor Has It and Someone Like You that Mercedes and Santana had been working on together for a possible glee club benefit concert.

It was, in fact, a pretty amazing set list, and even without Rachel, they all felt confident and excited about getting back in the saddle for their first competition of the year. After rehearsal was over, Quinn went straight to the hospital, where Rachel was fast asleep in a private room in the recovery wing, with her anxious dads flipping mindlessly through old magazines while they kept watch over her.

"Hi," Quinn whispered, afraid to wake the sleeping girl as she tiptoed in. The two Mr. Berrys smiled warmly when they saw her, both of them hugging her tightly before offering her a chair by Rachel's bedside. "She's so pale," Quinn murmured worriedly, reaching out and stroking a lock of dark hair back from her girlfriend's pallid face, a stark contrast to her usual golden olive skin tone. "Is that normal?"

"Very," Michael assured her in his soothing baritone. "The surgery went perfectly, honey, she'll be good as new in a couple of weeks. She'll just have a very sore throat for a few days, and we'll need to keep her hydrated and doped up on painkillers until it passes." Quinn nodded, unable to stop herself from stroking Rachel's hair and cheek as she slept peacefully in the stark white hospital bed. Though it had in fact only been a couple of days since they'd seen each other, it felt like much longer to the worried blonde girl, and she couldn't help herself from taking comfort in warm, solid touch, even if Rachel wasn't awake to enjoy it.

The anesthesia kept the dark-haired girl deeply asleep through the rest of the evening, and after a couple of hours, Jacob went out and brought back a pizza for them to share while they all kept watch over the unconscious girl. Finally, a little after 9pm, Rachel stirred, whimpered, and opened her heavy eyes.

"Hi, angel," Quinn cooed softly, scooting her chair as close to the bed as humanly possible, leaning over her girlfriend's sleep-warmed body to kiss her forehead and stroke her hair. "I missed those big brown eyes...don't worry, the doctor said you're not contagious anymore. How do you feel?" Rachel whimpered softly, and for a second Quinn thought her girlfriend was going to throw up on her; but she still couldn't bring herself to move. She'd rather be close to Rachel and get hurled on than be safely out of the way if it meant moving from her spot by the bed.

But, Rachel didn't puke. She just rubbed her throat, and with a pained expression, her sleepy eyes filled up with tears. "Does your throat hurt very badly, pumpkin?" Michael asked, sitting on the other side of the bed with Jacob. Rachel nodded woozily, reaching out and squeezing her dad's hand, hard, as if to convey some slight measure of the pain she was feeling. "It's all right, sweetheart, it's gonna feel better soon," Michael hummed reassuringly, picking up a little plastic button beside the bed, attached to the end of an IV that was hooked up to the crook of Rachel's inner arm. "This is a morphine pump. You just push this button anytime the pain is bad, and it'll send a nice, big dose of happy juice straight into your bloodstream. Okay, princess?"

Rachel nodded, blinking sleepily, and jabbed the button. A moment later, she visibly relaxed, a soft sigh of relief escaping her lips. She looked back over at Quinn, and with a woozy, drugged smile, pointed to the spot beside her on the bed.

"Can I?" Quinn asked Jacob and Michael uncertainly, worried about accidentally hurting Rachel when she looked so frail.

"Of course, sweetheart. Cuddle away," Jacob said warmly, with a little wink. "We'll leave you two alone for a few minutes...then I think you need to get yourself home and get a good night's sleep, Quinnie. Can't have you making yourself sick from exhaustion, either."

"'Kay," Quinn smiled gratefully, climbing carefully into bed beside her girlfriend, who immediately snuggled up against her. "Sweet baby girl," Quinn murmured, curling up on her side and throwing one leg possessively over Rachel's, pressing her forehead to her girlfriend's temple and gently stroking her hair. "You're okay now, you're gonna be fine. Everyone in glee misses you. They made you a card..." Quinn leaned over and grabbed the large, homemade get well card off the bedside table, showing Rachel the gold-star decorated cover and then reading each of their friends' messages aloud.

"I'm not allowed to stay here overnight, but I'll see you tomorrow after school, when you're home. Okay starlight?" Rachel nodded sleepily. "I love you so, so much, Rach..." Quinn leaned up on her elbow, and began planting soft kisses all over Rachel's pale face. As the blonde girl sat up and stretched, preparing to go, the sleepy starlet grabbed her shirt, tugging urgently on her sleeve.

"What is it, baby? Are you in pain? Should I get your dads?" Quinn asked worriedly. Rachel shook her head. _I'm sorry,_ she mouthed carefully, squeezing Quinn's arm. "Aww, honey, I know," the blonde girl sighed softly, beaming as she crawled back to the warm spot she'd just left and pressed another kiss to her girlfriend's forehead. "It's okay Rach, shh, don't worry about anything right now. I'm not mad. You're okay, and that's all that matters. Just try to rest, okay love? And maybe if you're feeling a little better by Saturday, I can convince your dads to let you come watch us at Sectionals."

Rachel nodded happily, and Quinn reluctantly left her with a final kiss, and a very gentle hug. The blonde girl hated to think about sleeping alone in her bed tonight, knowing Rachel was here, recovering from a painful surgery in an uncomfortable bed with over-starched sheets. At least her dads were here to watch over her...and, Quinn knew, if she couldn't sleep herself, she could always climb into bed with Santana and ask for another lullaby.


	10. Miracle

Merry Christmahanukkwanzaakah, Faberry fans!

I had this update mostly written a week ago, but due to family vacation I didn't have a chance to finish and post till now! So forgive the slight time lag (I know you will). I hope you're all having holiday fun tonight with people you love, wherever and however you find it! Quinn and Rachel certainly are ;)

Chag sameach (happy holidays),

—JW

Author's note: the song in this chap is "Miracle" by Matisyahu. It's the only Hanukkah song I could really envision Glee doing (and frankly I was kinda pissed that they didn't so much as _mention _Hanukkah on the actual holiday episode—and I'm _not_ counting Rachel saying "Happy Hanukkah" to random passersby on the street as the screen faded to black at the very end!). So if you haven't heard it, I highly recommend checking it out on YouTube before you read the chap. It's not hard to imagine Puck and Artie leading the crew in this Jewish holiday beatbox badassery. Enjoy!

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 10: Miracle**

…

"Hey starlight, how are you feeling today?" Quinn beamed, depositing her bag full of gifts into Rachel's lap before sitting beside her on the couch, wrapping both arms around her, and kissing her all over her face. Rachel smiled woozily and gave a little half-shrug. "Hmmm…you still feel like you have a fever," the blonde girl sighed softly, smoothing Rachel's bangs back and gently feeling her forehead. "But your dad said that was normal, so I'll try not to worry_ too_ much. Does your throat still hurt a lot, baby?"

Rachel pulled out her dry erase board and wrote, _Yeah, but I'm soooooo high on painkillers right now I can barely feel anything anyway! Woo-hoo!_ Quinn snickered and kissed her woozy girlfriend on the cheek. "Well, I brought you some presents and stuff to help you feel better. Wanna see?" Rachel nodded sleepily, resting her head on Quinn's shoulder while the blonde girl began pulling gifts out of her bag.

"Flowers for my sweet flower," Quinn began with a flourish, producing a bouquet of white tulips and irises tied with a thick purple ribbon, and resting them in Rachel's lap. "I'll go put them in a vase for you in a minute. Next, I got you like a dozen packages of those Ricola herbal cough drops you like, so you don't have to worry about running out for a while." Quinn piled her gifts onto the coffee table as she spoke, while Rachel snuggled up to her doting girlfriend and kissed her cheek.

"Next, we've got entertainment," the blonde girl continued seriously, pulling out a pile of books and stacking them onto the coffee table. "I asked everyone in glee club to bring in the best non-school book they've read lately, so you can see if anything here catches your interest." Rachel leaned over to examine the pile, pulling out _Becoming Enlightened_ by The Dalai Lama, holding it up with one eyebrow raised skeptically. Even though she still couldn't talk, Quinn didn't need the white board to understand her girlfriend's question.

"That one? Yeah, you won't believe it, but…that one's Brittany's." Rachel's jaw dropped. Quinn giggled. "Yeah, I think she thought that becoming enlightened just meant you wouldn't have to go to school anymore." They rolled their eyes playfully at each other, and Rachel let out a soft snicker that made her wince and grab her throat, her sleepy brown eyes watering with the shock of sudden, stabbing pain.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry honey," Quinn groaned, the playful smile immediately vanishing from her face. "I'm not being careful enough. Here, this should help a little till you get your next dose of painkillers." Quinn hastily ripped open the nearest package of cough drops, and unwrapped one. "Open up," she murmured, and Rachel happily complied, opening her mouth and allowing her girlfriend to drop the hard candy on her tongue. _Thank you,_ she wrote on her white board.

"You're welcome," Quinn smiled in relief. "Now, let's see what else we have in here…" After a moment of rustling, the blonde girl pulled out a stack of DVDs. "I got all our favorite Christmas movies, and..." Giggling impishly, Quinn unearthed the last item in the bag: an oversized Santa hat with a jingling reindeer bell on the end, and stuck it on Rachel's head. "There, now you can be loud and seasonally festive without hurting your voice. What do you think, babycakes?"

Rachel cocked her head and stared silently at her anxious girlfriend for a long, pensive moment. Then she wrote on her dry erase board, _What do I think?_ _I think I love you, Quinn Fabray_.

"I love you too, Rach," Quinn smiled, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders and kissing her forehead. The dark-haired girl pouted and tapped a finger petulantly to her lips. "Honey, you know I'm not allowed to kiss you on the lips till the doctor says you're all healed. You can't afford any germs right now, and I am not going to be the thing that slows down your recovery." Rachel's pout deepened, furrowing her eyebrows as she crossed her arms huffily over her chest.

"Aww, baby! Please don't be like that, you know I _want _to kiss you. Desperately. I mean, I always do. But I'm trying to be noble here—imagine how we'd both feel if I accidentally gave you an infection right now and it screwed up your voice permanently. Do you think you'd ever really forgive me? Because I know_ I _wouldn't forgive myself." Quinn poked Rachel gently between her ribs, trying to make her smile to balance out the slightly depressing conversation she couldn't find a way out of. Rachel didn't smile; but she also stopped scowling. Instead, her face crumpled and her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, honey, please don't cry, please..." Quinn begged, stroking Rachel's hair and kissing her all over her face.

_Sorry. I know you're right. I just can't help it,_ the emotional little starlet scribbled hastily on her whiteboard, wiping roughly at the tear tracks streaking down her flushed cheeks.

"It's okay, little star," Quinn murmured, snuggling down deeper into the couch and pulling the afghan up around them both, pressing her forehead to Rachel's slightly warmer one, and gently stroking her hair. "I think I know _one_ other kind of kiss I can give you that won't hurt you...have you ever had butterfly kisses?" Rachel shook her head miserably. "Good, close your eyes," Quinn smiled softly, tucking a lock of dark hair back from her girlfriend's tear-streaked face. "My mom used to do this to help me sleep when I was little..."

With a soft sigh of resignation, Rachel closed her eyes. Quinn wiped a few more tears from her girlfriend's eyes with her thumb, then leaned her face in so close to Rachel's, they could feel each other's breath. Then she fluttered her eyes gently, so her eyelashes brushed against Rachel's, still damp with the remains of her tears. It was a strange, but pleasant sensation, ticklish and warm, and Rachel sleepily reached out and tangled her fingers in Quinn's hair to show her she liked it.

"You've been kissed by a butterfly," Quinn murmured, leaning back against the couch cushions and blinking her eyes open with a dopey smile. Rachel didn't open her eyes, though; and after a minute of sleepy cuddling, Quinn gently stretched her girlfriend's limp body out on the couch, tucking the afghan snugly around her so she wouldn't get a chill. "Sweet dreams, angel," she whispered, with a final kiss to the sleeping girl's forehead. Then she tiptoed out of the living room and into the kitchen, where Rachel's dad Jacob was making spaghetti and meatballs for himself and his husband, and warming up a pot of miso soup for Rachel.

"Hi sweetheart," Jacob smiled warmly when he saw the blonde girl, ruffling her hair affectionately when she walked over to the stove to smell the bubbling tomato sauce. "Do you want to stay for dinner? Michael should be home soon."

"Rachel's not gonna be well enough to come watch us at Sectionals tomorrow, is she?" Quinn asked, frowning glumly into the simmering spaghetti pot.

"I don't think so, hon," Jacob sighed, shaking his head. "We can't let her out of the house in this weather with a fever. And so far she hasn't been able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, anyway. From everything the specialist at the hospital told us, it's perfectly normal for older teenagers and adults to have a slower recovery than kids typically do; we're just lucky she's such a lightweight with those prescription narcotics. Believe me, she's not feeling a thing." Quinn chuckled unwillingly, and Jacob squeezed her shoulder and gave her a little wink. "She's going to be fine, I promise Quinnie. It's just gonna take more than a couple of days to get there."

"Yeah, I know," Quinn nodded, frowning thoughtfully. Then the kitchen timer trilled, and Jacob busied himself draining the spaghetti and tossing it with the seasoned sauce in a large serving bowl.

"So, dinner?" He nudged the pensive blonde girl with his elbow.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure. I'm just gonna run upstairs and use Rachel's laptop for a sec. Be right back." Within five minutes on the computer, Quinn had found the sheet music she was looking for, and emailed it to the rest of the glee club along with the request (more a demand, if you wanted to get technical about it) that they all meet an hour earlier than planned for Sectionals in the morning so they'd have time to practice their brand-new post-show private encore number. With her first real smile of the day, Quinn logged out of her email and went downstairs to have dinner with the Berrys. One way or another, she was _going_ to show her girlfriend some holiday cheer.

…...

Rachel slept off and on all through the next day, just like she had the last several days, leaving her woozy and disoriented during her brief intervals of wakefulness. So when she woke up and found Kurt and Blaine chatting quietly over tea on the loveseat beside her, wearing what looked like blue Santa hats topped with fake candle flames, she assumed she was still dreaming at first. Then again, if she really was dreaming, her throat wouldn't feel so dry, would it? The woozy girl pushed herself up into a half-sitting position, rubbing her eyes and reaching for the glass of ginger ale her daddy had left waiting on the coffee table.

"Oh, someone's finally awake," Kurt said cheerfully, clasping his hands over his crossed legs with a dazzling smile full of barely contained glee. "Feeling any better, tiger?" Rachel gave a sleepy half-shrug.

"Well maybe this will help," the fair-haired boy winked, leaning over the couch and hoisting up the large first-place trophy from Sectionals. Rachel beamed sleepily at them and clapped her hands.

"And since you couldn't come see us perform today at Sectionals, _and _since tonight is the first night of Hanukkah, we've prepared a special number exclusively for you, Miss Berry," Blaine added, while Kurt nodded happily beside him. "Are you ready?"

Rachel sat up a little straighter and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, embarrassed for a moment at the idea of all her friends seeing her like this, pale and sick and sleep-mussed in her pajamas after three days on the couch; but then she relaxed, knowing they'd _all_ seen each other at their worst at one time or another, and touched by the trouble they'd gone to just to cheer her up. Grinning sleepily, she nodded, and Blaine jumped up from the couch and ran to the kitchen, where the sound of many quiet voices came into focus. Rachel could hear the clear tone of a tuning fork, and all her friends' voices harmonizing as they found the right key. Then the door swung open, and the entire glee club poured into her living room, all of them wearing the same artful candle-flame hats as Kurt and Blaine.

"'S'up, my hot Jew," Puck nodded with his usual good-natured leer, his guitar slung around his chest as he plucked out a tune Rachel couldn't quite place. "Ready to forget all your worries through the glory of rock?" Rachel cocked her head to the side, an unwilling smile spreading across her face as the rest of the club fanned out behind him. Quinn caught her girlfriend's eye and gave her a little wink, then blew her a kiss as they all started to sing.

Just livin' in the miracle, candles are my vehicle

Eight nights, gonna shine invincible

No longer be divisible, born through the struggle

Keep on moving through all this hustle

Head up, heads down through all of the bustle

New York City wanna flex your muscle

Look so down, look so puzzled

Huddle 'round your fire through all the rubble

Bound to stumble and fall,

but my strength comes not from man at all

Bound to stumble and fall.

but my strength comes not from man at all

Do you believe in miracles

Am I hearing you? Am I seeing you?

Eight nights, and eight lights, and these rites keep me right

Bless me to the highest heights with your miracle...

Against all odds drive on till tomorrow

Wipe away your tears and your sorrow

Sunrise in the sky like an arrow

No need to worry, no need to cry

Light up your mind no longer be blind

One who searches will find

Leave your problems behind you will shine like a fire in the sky

what's the reason we're alive – the reason we're alive…

Bound to stumble and fall,

but my strength comes not from man at all

Bound to stumble and fall,

but my strength comes not from man at all

Do you believe in miracles

Am I hearing you? Am I seeing you?

Eight nights, and eight lights, and these rites keep me right

Bless me to the highest heights with your miracle...

Miracle...

Miracle...

By the time the song was over, Rachel was crying tears of joy and clapping enthusiastically for her private holiday concert. "Happy Hanukkah," Quinn said breathlessly as she sat down on the couch beside her girlfriend, beaming and flush-faced. "Did you like the song, baby?"

Rachel bent over her whiteboard, scribbling furiously, then held it up over her head with the words _YOU'RE ALL CRAZY, I LOVE YOU!_ written in all capital letters. They had a short, very low-key holiday party in the Berry's living room, with gingerbread cookies and hot cider that Jacob brought in on a large tray; but it didn't take long before Rachel's eyes started drooping, and soon Michael came and politely shooed them all out. After a final round of hugs and holiday wishes, everyone was gone—save Quinn, of course, who snuggled up to her sleepy girlfriend's side on the couch as the two Mr. Berrys brought out the menorah and lit the first candle.

"I hope next year we'll finally be able to sing _together_ on Hanukkah," the blonde girl murmured quietly in her girlfriend's ear, "but for now this will have to do." And with a little wink, Quinn sang a soft but clear rendition of the Hanukkah blessings in perfect Hebrew, joined by Rachel's dads.

"That was lovely, Quinn," Jacob said with a beaming smile when they'd finished.

"Thanks. I've been waiting an entire year to impress you guys with that," the blonde girl admitted sheepishly, reminding them all that a year ago at this time, she'd been the one who lost her voice just in time for the holidays. Rachel wrapped both arms around her girlfriend's neck and kissed her on the cheek. "Happy Hanukkah, Rach," Quinn beamed shyly.

Rachel smiled sleepily and wrote _Happy Hanukkah, sunshine_ on her whiteboard. Then after a small exchange of first-night gifts, they all settled down to watch _It's a Wonderful Life_ on DVD. It might not have been the glamorous glee holiday-victory party they'd originally planned; but when Quinn looked down at her girlfriend's peacefully sleeping face, cuddled snugly against her side so she could feel the little starlet's soft breath rising and falling like a purring kitten, she knew there was no better way in the world to spend the first night of Hanukkah.

Besides, she still had another week to plan how she'd show Rachel and even _bigger _get-well surprise for Christmas.


	11. Waiting for the Mail

Hey everyone! Welcome back to Faberryland! I am so, so sorry for the 6 weeks of radio silence; for the first time in a long time, my creative brain just went into hibernation, and there was really nothing I could do but wait it out. It's like someone cancelled the fantasy TV service inside my head, and I just didn't see anything for a while, if that makes any sense. I knew it couldn't possibly last forever, because seeing stories in my head is part of my basic nature; and indeed, we are back! I hope you'll all forgive the absence and enjoy the chapter.

A couple of quick "previously on TMAIA" notes: Santana's parents kicked her out of the house when she came out to them, and now she's living at Quinn's; Rachel missed Sectionals because she had to have her tonsils out; and Shelby, Rachel's birth mom, is a successful off-Broadway actress in NYC. And now, back to the show!

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 11: Waiting for the Mail**

…...

"Okay, okay, you were right and I was wrong. I'm mature enough to admit it," Rachel shrugged primly, her attention fixed on the TV screen as she munched on a handful of vegan popcorn. "Now tell me, please, are they going to hook up?"

"I'm sorry, _what_ did you say?" Quinn cocked her head to the side, a satisfied smirk on her face as she raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend's eager expression. Rachel huffed indignantly, blowing her bangs back from her face.

"Ugh, fine, if you insist I will continue to take the moral high road. You see, this is how people who are ready for adulthood behave."

"Awesome. Say it." Quinn leaned back against the couch cushions and crossed her arms expectantly. Rachel rolled her eyes, blushing slightly as she made her admission.

"I'm sorry I ever teased you for liking Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

"Why thank you." Quinn leaned over on her hand and kissed her girlfriend teasingly on her end of her nose. Rachel giggled and blushed crimson.

"If only the rest of the world knew that you're actually a bigger dork than me," the dark-haired girl teased, snuggling up to the taller girl's side and grabbing the remote from her hand.

"Never gonna happen. I have pink hair," Quinn shrugged playfully, pointing to the pink streaks weaving through her shoulder-length blonde hair with a satisfied smirk. "I could start playing Dungeons and Dragons now, and I'd still be cool."

"Oh God, _please_ let's not test that theory," Rachel snorted, leaning her head on Quinn's shoulder as she un-paused the TV. They watched for a few minutes in rapt silence, as Faith snuck up to Buffy's classroom window, blew on the glass, and drew a heart, staring suggestively through the glass with one eyebrow raised in invitation. Rachel whined impatiently and squirmed in her seat.

"Okay, there's _no_ way they're not hooking up."

"Rach, this show was made in the 90's. Get real."

"But you _said_ one of the female leads gets a girlfriend soon," Rachel whined impatiently, tugging on a mussed lock of her girlfriend's pink hair.

"Yeah, but it's not Buffy, and not until they're in college. This whole Buffy/Faith thing is pure subtext. And even when the real thing _does_ happen, it's shown almost exclusively in metaphors as _magic spells_." Quinn sighed, tucking her legs up on the couch and cuddling closer to her dark-haired girlfriend, who grinned at her and pulled her face down for a long, slow kiss.

"Glad _we_ don't have that problem," Rachel murmured devilishly, stroking her thumb across Quinn's cheek.

"I dunno, I think I could perform a few magic spells on you," Quinn purred, leaning down so her lips brushed against Rachel's throat. The little starlet sighed happily, closing her eyes and leaning back against the couch cushions as her girlfriend's lips and teeth began a gentle exploration of her pulse point.

"Q! Where are you? I know you're home!" Santana's voice came echoing in from the front hall as the front door slammed, making the two girls on the couch groan in synchronized disappointment.

"Is she _ever_ moving back into her own house?" Rachel grumbled, sitting up and straightening her mussed hair.

"Rach, c'mon, don't be like that," Quinn sighed, squeezing the smaller girl's shoulder with a little half-smile. "She's come a long way the last few months, and we both know it."

"I know, I know. I just wish her parents would get over themselves so we could have some privacy again," Rachel huffed. "Y'know, privacy? That state of being alone where we can tear each other's clothes off and have hot monkey sex without constant fear of being interrupted?"

"Your selflessness will be richly rewarded in the next life, my lady," Quinn deadpanned with a little wink, leaning over the back of the couch and yelling "In here, San!" to her best friend.

"I don't think I can wait till the afterlife, Quinn," Rachel pouted, crossing her arms.

"I didn't mean heaven. I meant New York," Quinn snickered. "But I can see where you might confuse the two." She gave her girlfriend a little wink as the overexcited cheerleader came running into the room, an envelope clutched in her hand.

"I just got the mail," Santana said breathlessly, holding the thin envelope out to Quinn. The blonde girl reached out hesitantly and took it, glancing at the return address label from New York, New York with her mouth half-open. "Well? Open it!" Santana demanded, tapping her foot anxiously. Rachel normally would've reprimanded the hot-headed Latina for telling her girlfriend what to do, but she wanted to see what was inside the envelope just as much.

"It's so thin," Quinn said in a small voice, staring down at the envelope in her hands.

"That doesn't mean anything, Q. Everything's online now anyway, they don't have to send you the whole admissions packet anymore," Santana shook her head impatiently. "For fuck's sake, just open it!" With a deep breath, Quinn nodded resolutely and ripped the envelope apart, hastily pulling out the letter and unfolding it so only she could see it.

"What does it say?" Rachel demanded, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears as she tried to decipher her girlfriend's blank expression.

"I got into Columbia," Quinn choked out, sounding completely stunned as she held out the letter. Rachel and Santana both screamed, jumping on Quinn at the same time and throttling her with hugs. The stunned blonde girl just stared into space for a minute; then she began to cry.

"Honey, what? What's wrong?" Rachel asked, dazed, as she wiped the tears from her girlfriend's flushed cheeks.

"Nothing, Rach, I just can't believe it," Quinn shook her head, beaming through her tears. "This is really happening—we're really going to New York!" Rachel's smile stiffened then, but she nodded along with Quinn and Santana's giddy joy, as they jumped on the couch and screamed with excitement. After a few minutes, Quinn seemed to come back to herself a bit, and she noticed the mechanical expression on her girlfriend's face.

"You'll get your letter too, starlight. You know that," the blonde girl smiled gently, tucking a lock of dark hair back behind her girlfriend's ear.

"Yes, Quinn, I do...I just don't know what it will say." Rachel's eyes were downcast. Quinn sighed, taking the shorter girl's chin in her hand and tilting it back up.

"Well, I do." They shared a soft kiss, and Rachel smiled weakly and shook her head as if waking up from a daydream.

"All right, no more moping, I'm sorry Quinnie. Let's celebrate! I'm taking you out for ice cream." Quinn's eyes lit up.

"Really? The Creamery?" It took a lot to get Rachel to agree to visit Quinn's favorite ice cream parlor in town, because they didn't offer any vegan options on their otherwise vast menu of flavors and toppings.

"Of course. It's not every day a girl gets into college," Rachel shrugged.

"Sweet!" Quinn beamed and ran to get her coat. With a soft sigh, the dark-haired girl trailed after her.

…...

The next day at school, everyone was congratulating Quinn on her admission to Columbia before she'd even had a chance to tell them, thanks to the public announcement system known as Santana Lopez. Rachel managed to hold it together despite the gnawing panic chewing away at her insides as she waited to hear back from her own dream school, Julliard, about when they'd allow her to reschedule her audition due to the tonsillitis surgery she'd had over winter break. Every day that she didn't hear back added a few more butterflies to her stomach, and she couldn't do much more than smile and nod as the rest of the glee club began excitedly preparing their Michael Jackson numbers for Regionals.

"Pumpkin, I forgot to tell you," Jacob said as he spooned pasta onto her plate at the dinner table, "Shelby called and invited you and Quinn up to stay with her for spring break. Might be a nice opportunity to help Quinn get to know the city, and you can both check out the dorms at Columbia and Julliard; maybe even scout out neighborhoods in case you decide to live off-campus."

"Sure," Rachel said mechanically, poking absently at her pasta.

"You know, it really gives you more energy if you actually eat it," Michael teased gently.

"I'm _trying!"_ Rachel snapped, throwing her fork down on her plate with a clatter. "It's kind of hard to eat and sleep and act like everything's normal, when every day that goes by means it's less likely I'm getting into college."

"Honey—" Jacob began with a placating hand on her shoulder; but Rachel jumped up from the table with a whine of anxious misery.

"Forget it, I'm fine. I just hate waiting. I'm going upstairs to study." And with that, she abandoned her untouched plate.

That was how Quinn found her when she knocked on Rachel's bedroom door two hours later, peeking in when there was no answer with a soft grin on her face, her blonde and pink hair trailing over her shoulder as she leaned hesitantly into the doorway, waiting for some acknowledgment or invitation. "I come bearing gifts," she said gently, holding up a dinner tray with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a glass of chocolate soymilk with a bendy-straw, like she was a fussy five-year-old. Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose you're conspiring with my dads on the _let's make Rachel eat_ project," the dark-haired girl snorted, closing her textbook with a sigh.

"They're just worried about you. It's a stressful time. And your clothes are starting to hang off you, honey." Quinn sat on the edge of the bed, pushing the little tray across the bedspread toward her girlfriend. Rachel stared blankly at the food for a moment.

"I'm nauseous all the time, Quinn. Every day," she said quietly, poking at the PB&J. "Is this how you felt when you were pregnant? I honestly don't know how you endured it."

"You're _going_ to get into Julliard, Rach," Quinn said firmly, reaching out to rub her girlfriend's back; but Rachel shrugged her off.

"Don't, Quinn, please. I know you want to help, but you can't, okay? You have no idea how it feels to see all _your_ dreams coming true without me. To think about how I'll feel if you go off to New York without me..."

"I'm _not_ going to New York without you, Rachel!" Quinn exclaimed in exasperation. "Even if you don't get into Julliard—which we both know you will—you're still coming to New York one way or the other. We both said we'd apply to NYU as our safety school, and if it weren't for Columbia early admissions, I'd still be doing that too. Anyway, it doesn't matter, because you _are _getting into Julliard, Rachel. I know you're freaked about having to reschedule your audition, but you're not the first person in the history of showbiz to have your tonsils out. They wouldn't have agreed to reschedule if they didn't want you. Trust me, baby, we are _both_ getting out of here."

"How can you know that?" Rachel sobbed, her composure finally crumpling as she let go of the facade that everything was all right, and burst into tears. "I always thought it would happen, but now...everyone else knows w-what they're doing...Kurt already got his second c-callback...what if I missed it, Quinn? What if I missed my chance?"

"Shhh, come here," Quinn hummed, wrapping her arms tight around her girlfriend's shaking body and rocking her as she sobbed. "You didn't miss it, Rachel...you couldn't. Your talent hasn't gone anywhere. You just needed a little break, and now you're confused and off your game. I can relate. I felt the same way after Beth was born." Rachel sniffed and wiped her eyes, feeling slightly sheepish and self-centered as she remembered how much harder Quinn had to work to get her life back after giving up her baby for adoption.

"For a while there, I wasn't sure I was ever gonna get my groove back, either," Quinn shook her head seriously. "But you wouldn't give up on me, not even when I wanted to give up on myself. Consider this payback." The blonde girl stroked a few dark strands of hair back behind her girlfriend's ear, then leaned in and kissed a stray tear from her cheek.

"I'm really scared, Quinn," Rachel admitted in a small voice.

"I know, baby. I'm here. And I'm not leaving you behind, no matter what—even if it means I have to hog-tie you and throw you in my suitcase." Rachel wiped her eyes, chuckling absently at the absurd mental image.

"You rock, y'know," the dark-haired girl sniffed, smiling weakly as she reached for her PB&J and took a bite.

"I'm aware," Quinn smiled back, biting her lip as her delighted grin threatened to take over her face. "Now let's talk about Michael Jackson duets."


	12. V Day Adventures

Hey Faberry fans! A couple of quick notes on this chap:

1) There are some references to kinky sex (domination/submission), but only in passing conversation, and nothing at all graphic. There is also a reference to violence and character death (no one you know, don't worry). Just fair warning for sensitive readers.

2) I know that Rachel's dads are finally making an appearance in tonight's ep, and they will be different from the dads I've created for her here…all I can say is, this is my world, and I think it would be really disruptive for me to try to change my Berry men at this point to conform more to the canon world. But you can certainly picture Jeff Goldblum and Brian Stokes Mitchell if you want! :)

3) A note on NYADA: hopefully everyone knows this is not a real school. I don't know why they felt the need to make up a fake performing arts school for Kurt & Rachel; yes, it's true that there is not a musical theater major at Julliard, but there ARE voice and drama majors, that can be combined as a double major or a major/minor combo. And there are certainly plenty of Julliard alums on Broadway! Again, if NYADA had been discussed way back when on Glee, I would've incorporated it just for the sake of consistency; but my Rachel has been talking about Julliard for quite a while now, so I feel it's much too late to change that. Also, Columbia & Julliard are in the same neighborhood (Upper West Side), and as a New Yorker, it's important to me that Quinn & Rachel get to live close by each other while they're in the freshmen dorms! (Seriously, dating someone in Queens or Brooklyn is practically a long-distance relationship here).

4) There is a heavy dose of Quintana friendship in this chap! Santana has been so awesome lately, I couldn't leave her out of this ;)

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 12: V-Day Adventures**

…...

"Honey, Daddy and I have some big news for you." Jacob smiled bracingly and squeezed Rachel's shoulder as she sat at the kitchen table going over her sheet music for glee club's Latin music assignment.

"I already know where babies come from," Rachel said dryly, not bothering to look up from her notes.

"Rachel, I'm serious." The dark-haired diva finally looked up at her dad's excited expression, and frowned in vague unease.

"Okay, sorry. What is it you have to tell me?" Jacob looked across the table at Michael, who grinned back at him and scooted his chair a little closer to his daughter, squeezing her knee under the table.

"We heard from Julliard today," Michael said in his deep, even baritone, the tiniest hint of a suppressed grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Rachel's stomach twisted into a double-loop knot and jumped into her throat.

"And?" she choked, feeling her whole body break into a cold sweat.

"You got your audition, baby girl!" Jacob beamed, his thousand-watt smile a perfect reflection of his daughter's as his words registered in her brain. Rachel screamed and jumped to her feet, and instantly her dads were both hugging her, and they were all laughing and crying at the same time. Eventually, she calmed down enough to start demanding details, and Jacob explained that they'd arranged for her to audition in New York while she was visiting Shelby for spring break, since there were no more Midwest tours scheduled for the Julliard scouts this season. As soon as Rachel found out she had less than two weeks to prepare her audition for the only school she had ever wanted to attend, she had a minor panic attack and had to sit back down and put her head between her knees. That's how Quinn found her when she came over to work on their glee duet fifteen minutes later.

"Rachel, oh my God! Are you okay?" Quinn exclaimed anxiously, rushing to her shaking girlfriend's side and kneeling down on the floor in front of her, rubbing her back soothingly while she looked to Rachel's dads for answers, confused and slightly furious to see them both grinning like idiots.

"She got her Julliard audition," Jacob explained helpfully, filling a glass with cold water and coming around the table to take the seat beside his hyperventilating daughter. "Here pumpkin, have a sip of this before you pass out."

"Uh...'kay," Rachel gasped weakly, sitting up with a blank, shell-shocked look as she reached for the glass. After she'd gulped down a few mouthfuls, she looked over at Quinn; and only then did the color start to return to her cheeks. A dazed smile crept across her face.

"I got my audition," she said finally, as if it had only just hit her.

"Fuck yeah, you got it," Quinn beamed, a second before her hazel eyes went wide and she slapped a hand across her mouth. "Oh! Sorry, dads. I didn't mean to curse..."

"Forget it, sweetie," Jacob waved her off, beaming. "I think this is one of the situations where strong language is actually called for. How shall we celebrate?"

"I don't have time to celebrate," Rachel scoffed, gulping down the rest of her water and jumping to her feet, grabbing her sheet music off the table haphazardly. "I have to rehearse! Quinn, please accompany me to the basement studio. We'll start with our glee assignment, but then I really need your help choosing my Julliard audition selections. I've narrowed it down to a top ten list for each of the three performance requirements of opera, ballad and modern contemporary." Quinn's smile faltered when she realized that she wasn't going to be getting a booty call tonight—or, most likely, any night between now and their trip to New York. Then again, if there was one thing she might love almost as much as Rachel's body, it was listening to Rachel's voice. And she had a feeling she was going to be hearing a lot more of it for the next couple of weeks.

…...

"So what are you and Tinkerbell doing for Valentine's?" Santana asked Quinn as they ran side by side along the McKinley cross-country track. Though she'd given up cheerleading, the blonde girl still felt the need for a physical outlet of some kind, and Santana had been her workout buddy for so long, their regular exercise routine outside of Cheerios practice hadn't really changed at all since Quinn quit the team.

"If I tell you, do you _promise_ not tell Rachel?" Quinn asked warily, giving her best friend a hard look out of the corner of her eye.

"Geez, Q, spazz much? I can keep a secret," Santana scoffed, rolling her eyes and bumping the blonde girl with her hip. Quinn raised an eyebrow impassively.

"I know, San, I just want to be one hundred percent clear that this is a surprise. Rachel's under a ton of stress right now with her Julliard audition, and this is the first year that we're _actually_ getting to celebrate Valentine's Day together, since we both had mono last year, and two years ago she had tonsillitis and I was cranky and massively pregnant. So I really want it to be perfect for her."

"You're an awesome girlfriend, you know that Q? I hope Thumbelina appreciates everything you do to keep her happy. Cause I'd hate to have to smack her around—unless she enjoys that kind of thing?" The Latina girl grinned lasciviously and wiggled her eyebrows.

"Santana! Don't be such a dog," Quinn huffed, her porcelain cheeks flushing pink in the chilly February air.

"So that's a confirmation on the bondage and domination," Santana nodded teasingly, still grinning as they rounded the corner of the track and started back towards the football field. "Nothing to be ashamed of, mija, B and I do it all the time. You wouldn't believe how creative she can get when she's on top."

"When _she's_ on top?" Quinn asked, so surprised she forgot to be shy.

"Yeah, sure. What, did you think I wouldn't let her? It's _awesome_ switching it up. Giving up control like that, showing her I trust her completely with my heart and my body…it's fucking hot. You never let Rachel top you?" The question brought Quinn's embarrassment back in full force, and she coughed a couple of times to clear the fluttery feeling from her throat.

"Well, I mean, we've only played around with that stuff a couple of times…and both times, she asked _me_ to tie _her_ up. I'm not sure she wants to be in charge." Santana snorted incredulously.

"Are you kidding? _Rachel Berry_ doesn't want a chance to be in charge? Fat chance. I'm sure she's thought about it. But I'm asking _you_—have _you_ thought about it?" Quinn smirked shyly and bit her lip.

"I've thought about it," the blonde girl admitted softly.

"Good, cause you'd be missing out in a big way if you didn't. You could always let her tie you up for V-day, that's a present you'll _both_ get to enjoy."

"We'll see," Quinn smiled absently, as images of Rachel topping her while she lay tied up and helpless flitted through her mind. Her cheeks flushed a little redder. "I'm not sure we'll have time for AP bondage sex after the Valentine's date I have planned; we're already driving to Columbus and back, _and_ it's a school night."

"God, you're so middle-aged sometimes. So what's in Columbus?"

"Dinner at a South Asian vegan restaurant, then The Vagina Monologues at OSU."

"How lesbionic," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Jealous?" Quinn smirked unabashedly.

"As if," Santana snorted. "Me and Brits don't need tofu and pimply college actors to get our mack on. We _are_ the Vagina Monologues."

"Thank you for _that_ graphic image," Quinn groaned, shaking her head ruefully.

"Always a pleasure," Santana teased, chuckling.

"So, seriously, what _are _you and Brit doing for Valentine's?"

"Actually, I don't know," Santana admitted. "She won't tell me. That's kind of why I asked you what you were doing—I thought if you guys were conspiring together on something double-datey, I could worm it out of you. But clearly you don't know jack, so you're useless to me, Fabray."

Quinn smiled, but didn't say anything. She was surprised, but also impressed, that Santana was letting Brittany take the reins for their Valentine's celebration, as the fiery Latina was usually so dominant and take-charge in every area of her life, _especially_ her relationship with the sweet-tempered blonde dancer. If Santana could learn to let go and give up control like that, perhaps Quinn could, too. Her grin spread stupidly across her face as an image of Rachel straddling her with a pair of fuzzy handcuffs flashed across her mind. Maybe it wasn't too late to get one more gift before Valentine's Day, after all.

…..

"So did you have a good time tonight, little starfish?" Quinn laced her fingers together with Rachel's as they walked across the OSU campus toward their car in the non-student public lot.

"Do you even have to ask?" Rachel giggled, beaming shyly as she leaned into her girlfriend's arm. "A delicious vegan dinner in a restaurant where I could literally order anything on the menu, followed by a steady procession of stage orgasms. I couldn't ask for a better first Valentine's Day with my girlfriend of two and a half years." Quinn beamed and pulled the smaller girl in for a soft kiss, nuzzling her playfully under the pale blue glow of the campus safety lights.

"Oooh, adorable lesbians at ten o'clock! Are you coming to the campus pride V-Day afterparty?" A blue haired boy squealed from within a flock of chattering undergrads as they passed.

"We don't go here, we're still in high school," Quinn explained with a shy grin as she pulled away and wrapped an arm comfortably around Rachel's shoulders.

"High school! Well look at you being all advanced placement gay," the boy teased good-naturedly, giving them a wink as they giggled. "You can still come to our party, as long as you promise not to give yourselves alcohol poisoning and get us shut down for contributing to the delinquency of minors."

"Thank you for the invitation, but we have to get home to Lima," Rachel smiled at the motley crew of collegians, drawing little circles on Quinn's lower back out of their sight. "It's a long drive, and we have our _own_ afterparty to get to." The boys oooohed appreciatively, in a distinctly Kurt-like way, and left them giggling as they walked off in different directions.

"So what's this about a private afterparty?" Quinn asked as they climbed into her car, still smiling stupidly. "I don't remember hearing anything about this on our official Valentine's Day spreadsheet."

"You're not the only one who likes to arrange surprises, Quinn Fabray," Rachel smiled mysteriously, cocking her head at her girlfriend's inquisitive expression as they pulled out of the parking lot. "I may have a little something prepared for your enjoyment when we get home. You _are_ spending the night tonight, right?"

"Try and stop me," the blonde girl beamed shyly.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Rachel sighed happily, snuggling against Quinn's side and trailing her fingertips teasingly up and down the blonde girl's thigh all the way back to Lima. The next day at school, Santana gave Quinn a smug high-five when she saw the faint, tell-tale bruise lines around the blonde girl's pale wrists. Valentine's Day didn't get much better than this.

….

The days leading up to spring break passed quickly, as Rachel poured herself into her audition preparations, aided day and night by Kurt, who had already had his callback with the Julliard scout and could therefore give the anxious little starlet the benefit of his experience and council. Meanwhile, Quinn was busy researching Columbia's clubs, dorms and student life, and setting up a campus visit for their trip so she could get a feel for the place. With her head stuck in a perpetual daydream of the life she'd soon have in the most exciting city on earth, the blonde girl was completely caught off guard when she came home from Rachel's the night before their trip and found Santana packing her bags, singing along loudly to Ricky Martin on the radio with a huge smile plastered to her face.

"You going somewhere?" Quinn asked bemusedly, climbing onto Santana's bed and sending a pile of socks tumbling to the floor.

"Hey, watch it Q! Just because your mom saved my ass from homelessness doesn't mean I won't smack yours if you mess up my stuff."

"Pretty tough talk for a girl who wears rainbow cupcake pajamas," Quinn smirked devilishly, wiggling her eyebrows at her best friend, who blushed and actually giggled a little.

"Which you have sworn on your good name never to reveal to another living soul," Santana reminded her, raising an eyebrow as she tried to look stern. But her good mood was so infectious, she just ended up laughing and jumping onto the bed to hug her best friend with a squeal of joy.

"Whoa!" Quinn yelped, laughing as she fell back against the pillows, returning the hug enthusiastically though she still didn't know what was going on. "I'm happy as hell for you, San, but I still have no idea why."

"I'm going home, Q. My parents want me back. Your mom and her lumberjack boyfriend finally talked some sense into them, and they're even gonna start going to PFLAG meetings together once a month. Can you seriously believe it?"

"Wow...that's great, San, congratulations," Quinn smiled dazedly, her brain still stuck on the fact that Santana had just described Tom Miller as her mother's boyfriend. She knew they'd been spending time together, and she'd found him making tea in her kitchen more than a few times over the last several weeks, but...boyfriend? _That_ was news to her. Surely, Santana was just making assumptions as usual—wouldn't her mom have told her if she was officially dating someone?

"I thought you'd be more excited to get your privacy back," Santana frowned, raising an eyebrow at Quinn's underwhelming response. "I know you and Tinkerbell don't get off on the idea of getting caught quite like me and B do." Quinn snapped back to herself at Santana's light teasing, grinning with a wry snort.

"Yeah, well Rachel's got her Julliard blinders on 24/7 these days anyway, so at the moment I'm not missing much. Of course I'm thrilled for you that your parents are finally accepting you for who you really are, that's the best thing ever. But...now that you're leaving, I guess I'll _kind _of miss you. For a huge pain in the ass, you're not so bad to have around, you know." Quinn's eyes dropped shyly with the admission, as a sad smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

"Aw, querida. I love you too." Santana hugged Quinn again, even more fiercely than before, and kissed the top of her head. "C'mon, if it'll help ease your separation anxiety, you can help me pack."

"Ha ha, I think I'll pass on the slave labor, thanks," Quinn snorted, rolling her eyes at her best friend's trademark wicked smile. "I have to pack too, you know. Rachel and I are leaving for New York tomorrow."

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that. You lucky bitch." Santana smacked Quinn's ass as the blonde girl climbed off the bed with a squeal of indignant surprise.

"Hey, hands off the goods, Lopez. Or I won't bring you back a present."

It didn't take long for Quinn to finish packing for her trip—they were only going to be in New York for a week, after all—and she wandered down to the kitchen for a snack while she waited to see Santana off. Once again, she found Tom Miller at the stove brewing tea, and humming a little tune to himself absentmindedly. She hesitated in the doorway, feeling slightly awkward and uncomfortable being alone in a room with him as Santana's words—_your mom's boyfriend_—rung in her head. But before she'd decided to come in or go out, the swinging door returned to hit her in the back, pushing her over the threshold with a soft yelp of surprise that alerted the older man to her presence. He smiled warmly when he saw her, his kind blue eyes lighting up with obvious pleasure at her presence.

"Hello, Quinn, I didn't hear you come in. I was just making some tea. Would you like a cup?" The _no thank you_ was almost fully formed on the tip of her tongue, it was so automatic of a response, before she stopped and actually considered the offer. What if he wasn't just being polite—what if he really did want to have tea with her? If this man was going to stick around in her mom's life after she'd gone away to college, as much as the idea was still a little uncomfortable to her, she wanted to make sure she approved while she still had the chance to weigh in.

"Sure, that would be nice. Thank you." Quinn sat at the table while Tom poured the hot tea into two mugs, bringing milk and sugar to the table so she could fix her own cup exactly how she liked it. After blowing on the hot surface and taking a small sip, Quinn cautiously broke the silence.

"So...thanks for whatever you said to Santana's parents. I've known them a long time, and they don't usually change their minds about anything once they've made a decision. I honestly didn't think they were ever gonna be okay with her being openly gay. It...means a lot to her, and to me."

"You're very welcome, Quinn. I know how hard it is for parents in their position, to struggle with something so foreign to their world, when everything they've ever been taught says they're bad parents if they don't try to 'fix' their gay child. I'm just glad I was in a position to help." The grey-haired man stirred a lump of sugar into his tea and took a sip. Quinn nodded, biting her lip thoughtfully.

"So, that's something you went through, too? I mean—I know you met my mom at PFLAG, but you've never talked about your kids or anything. I didn't want to assume."

"No, no, that's quite all right. It's perfectly natural for you to be curious. My ex-wife and I had one child, a son. His name was Zach." Quinn's stomach twinged when she heard the past tense; his name _was._

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly, fidgeting quietly with her hands in her lap, not knowing what the right thing to say or do was when someone told you their child had died. Her thoughts drifted immediately to Beth, making her stomach twinge even harder. "How...I mean...if you don't want to talk about it..."

"It's all right, Quinn." Tom reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently. "The more people who know about Zach, the longer his memory stays alive. And that's all I have left of him now." With a sad smile, he pulled out his wallet, and withdrew a small school picture of a smiling teenage boy, perhaps fifteen, with wavy, golden-blonde hair and bright blue eyes, just like his father's. He was wearing a football jersey, and had the chiseled jawline of a natural athlete.

"He'd be celebrating his 25th birthday next month," Tom remarked thoughtfully, watching Quinn's face as she studied the photo of the smiling teenager.

"What happened to him?" The blonde girl asked quietly, her eyes fixed on the photo with a mixture of curiosity and dread.

"A little after his sixteenth birthday, he told us he was gay. It caught me completely by surprise—I'd never known anyone gay, all I had to go on was TV and pop culture images of what being gay meant, and none of those ideas made any sense when I tried to line them up with my son. He was an athlete, star quarterback, not some artsy, effeminate fashionista from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. I thought it was a phase, and that it was my job as his father to provide tough love and a strong hand." With a soft sigh of regret, Tom stirred his tea and took another sip.

"I told myself it was his choice to leave, not ours…he knew he was welcome back any time as soon as he agreed to live a normal life. I was so arrogant. My ex-wife begged me not to let him go…she wanted to send him to one of those reparative therapy camps, like Exodus International, where he'd have support and adult guidance to overcome his "problem." Of course, we were both fools, but we just didn't know…we didn't know what could happen to him, out there on his own." Quinn reached out tentatively and squeezed his slightly wrinkled hand, afraid to ask what happened next. After taking another fortifying gulp of tea, Tom continued.

"He was…he ended up on the street. He didn't have anyone to take him in, like you and your friend Santana. I didn't know he was living on the street until it was too late…when the police came to our house to ask us to come identify his body."

"Oh, God," Quinn whispered, horror-struck, as her eyes filled up with tears. Her stomach twisted sharply as her brain conjured up nightmare images of anything remotely life-threatening happening to Beth. Tom patted her hand lightly.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do if I could just go back in time and make myself see sense a few months earlier," he sighed sadly, shaking his head. "I spent years blaming myself for his death. My wife left me. She became an advocate for Exodus International, speaking out about the dangers of the "homosexual lifestyle" and using our son's memory as a platform to shame more young people into denying who they really are. And I…well, you know where I ended up. I know what really killed my son, and it wasn't his sexual orientation. It was his parents' ignorance and fear."

"I don't know what to say," Quinn murmured, shaking her head as her eyes swam with tears. She tried to wrap her head around the idea of this kind and gentle man turning his gay son out on the street; it was so contrary to everything she knew of him now. Clearly, he'd gone through a lot, and faced his mistakes and his grief, to become the person he was today.

"You don't have to say anything," Tom shook his head with a sad smile. "I'm glad you know about Zach now, because he would've loved to know you. Secrets and shame are no way to live; he taught me that, and I'll never go back. You can ask me anything, Quinn, about Zach or about my past, when you feel ready. Your mother means a lot to me, and that means you do, too. I want you to know you can always be honest with me about your life."

"Thank you," Quinn sighed heavily, feeling as if a heavy weight had just been lifted from her chest. "I, uh…think I'll go get ready for bed now. Early flight and all."

"Of course. Have a wonderful time in New York, kiddo. And don't forget to bring a souvenir back for your mom, okay? She's so proud of you. Maybe they have "Columbia Mom" sweatshirts in the school gift shop, I know she'd love that."

"Sure," the blonde girl nodded shyly. Then, impulsively, she stood up and threw her arms around the bearded man, hugging him tightly. "Thanks for being honest with me. I'm glad my mom met you."

"So am I, Quinn. So am I." Impulsively, he ruffled her pink-streaked hair, and she smiled shyly. She would certainly have plenty to tell Rachel on their way to New York tomorrow.


	13. On My Way

**Author's note:** I know we are all just completely and utterly gutted right now. I'm sure that _all_ glee fans everywhere are gutted, but really, we of the good ship faberry are in the special hell right now. After watching the ep, I could hardly even get to sleep last night. It's literally like the writers said, "The only thing left that we haven't tried to stop Quinn from lezzing out for Rachel is to hit her with a truck. And oh yeah, let's make it Rachel's fault."

Part of me wishes I could just say, to hell with this, our girls are safe from this kind of madness in my world; but the truth is, that wouldn't give us (me) the necessary catharsis to feel better. I _need_ to see the storyline work itself out to a happy ending through this whole crash situation; and I bet a lot of you do, too. So with that in mind, this chapter does carry a moderate to major angst warning, plus another for graphic descriptions of blood and guts. But, it goes without saying, I would NEVER inflict any permanent damage on Quinn or Rachel. I hope you'll find some comfort in this chapter...and it certainly won't be seven weeks until the next one!

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 13: On My Way**

…...

The next morning, Quinn was awoken by the tinny jingle of "Somebody to Love" playing on her cellphone, which was her personalized ringtone for her girlfriend. She rubbed her eyes and groped blindly for the phone on the bedside table, knocking over a bottle of water onto her pillow that sent her jolting out of bed as she grabbed the phone and tumbled onto the floor.

"Ughh, fuck...morning, starfish," she yawned, rubbing her eyes as she surveyed herself woozily.

"Quinn, are you just waking up?" Rachel gasped in horror, the sound of her obvious panic rousing the blonde girl even more thoroughly than the splash of water to the face or the tumble out of bed. "I was just calling to check that you're on schedule and almost ready to leave! Our flight leaves in two hours! What the hell are you doing?"

"Two hours?" Quinn squeaked, her eyes going immediately to her alarm clock...which was blinking a steady rhythm of 12:00am. "Oh, fuck me, my alarm went out Rach. And my mom must've left for work early..." Which was why she'd planned to leave her car at Rachel's and get a ride to the airport from Rachel's dad. Shit.

"Quinn Cordelia Fabray, if you make us miss our flight I will never forgive you!" Rachel shrieked; but Quinn was already on her feet and running to the bathroom for her toothbrush.

"We're not gonna miss our flight Rach, I promise. I'm already packed, and I'm not even going to shower, okay? I'm just gonna brush my teeth and throw on the nearest available clothing, and I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay baby? We are not missing your Julliard audition again, I swear on my life."

"Okay. Fine. Do it. Just get here as fast as you can," Rachel whimpered; and before Quinn could respond, the line went dead. With a soft groan of frustration, Quinn grabbed her toothbrush and proceeded to run around her room trying to pull on her clothes while brushing her teeth and throwing a few final toiletries into her suitcase (all right, so she'd lied about being completely packed; but only a little). Ten minutes later, with the vague suspicion that she'd put on her underwear backwards, she was out the door.

…...

Twenty minutes turned into twenty-five, and Rachel texted Quinn with the caps lock on to fully convey her anxiety level. WHERE ARE YOU?

ON MY WAY, Quinn texted back. Rachel huffed and threw herself back down on the couch, then got up and started pacing again. She wasn't _mad _at Quinn; her alarm didn't go off, and her mother wasn't in the house, which was why Quinn planned to drive herself to Rachel's so they could ride to the airport together in Jacob's car. If anything, it gave Rachel a slight pang, as it always did, to think about how fast her sweet girl had been forced to grow up. She took care of herself, and never complained that it was too hard. If anything, Rachel was angry with _herself _now for not giving Quinn a wake up call earlier, just to make sure she was covered.

And even knowing that as the minutes ticked by, there would eventually come a point when they'd miss their flight; even then it didn't mean the end of the world. Her Julliard audition wasn't for a whole four days; it was the only opening the admissions office could grant her, and it just happened to fall neatly halfway through her spring break. So even if they _did_ miss their flight today, Rachel knew her dads had purchased the optional travel insurance (_always take the optional travel insurance_, Daddy loved to harp on about it), well they'd just transfer their tickets to the next flight to JFK. It wasn't as if there wouldn't be another one. As she thought through all her contingency plans, Rachel began to calm down, and her heart rate slowly returned to normal.

That was when the phone rang. "Hi Daddy," Rachel sighed, flopping back down on the couch and putting her legs up over the arm. "You're lucky you caught us, we're leaving for the airport as soon as Quinn gets here. What's up?"

"Rachel, there's been an accident." Michael's voice was low and grave.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked bemusedly, innocently confused as to why her father would call home from his job at the hospital to tell her there had been an accident. Of course there had been an accident—there were accidents every day in farming country, that was what kept her father gainfully employed in the county emergency room.

"Rachel, it's Quinn."

"What? No," Rachel shook her head, another snort of incredulous laughter bubbling to her lips. "Quinn's on her way over. She just texted me."

"She ran a stop sign, baby girl. She got hit head-on by a pickup truck. You need to go get your dad and get here now." Rachel blinked and looked around the room, her eye honing in on every useless detail like it was a delicately crafted shot in a movie, and somehow significant; the magazine pile fanned out on the coffee table with little colored tabs that her dad left to _hint _to his husband what he'd like for his birthday. The picture on the piano of her smiling seven-year-old face with the missing front tooth, that she'd always found embarrassing, but Quinn adored. Her daddy's ratty and rumpled, half-finish Sudoku puzzle challenge book on the side table, with the pencil still sticking out. Even the tiny motes of dust floating in the beam of sunlight pouring in through the windows. Rachel saw it all at the same time, like time didn't even mean anything at all.

"Rachel! Snap out of it, baby girl. I need you to bring the phone to your dad so I can talk to him."

"Of course. We're coming. We're coming right now," Rachel nodded, already running for the stairs. A blast of trembling adrenalin had just blasted straight from her chest out into the rest of her body; it felt like the time she'd tried a tablet of Noah's Ritalin for recreational purposes. Everything was clear and sharp and immediate, just a question of lining up tasks and executing them. Get to Quinn. That was task number one. That was all there was.

On the way to the hospital, Rachel group-texted the entire glee club. _Quinn had a car accident. We're on our way to the hospital. Please come asap._ Then she silenced her phone and shoved it back in her purse, determined not to give it a shred of her attention once they got to the hospital. "Dad, she'll be all right won't she? What did Daddy tell you?"

"We don't know yet, Rachel, I don't know anything. All I know is that it's serious and they're prepping her for surgery." Jacob's voice was as grim as his husband's, and as controlled. Neither of them, a distant part of Rachel's brain was relieved to note, were in any danger of falling apart right now. They were going to do whatever needed to be done. It was such an inexplicable comfort.

"You called Judy?" She asked, more just to have something to say than because she doubted it.

"Before we left," Jacob nodded. Then they were pulling up to the ER parking lot, and Rachel jumped out of the car before it came to a complete stop and ran straight to the admittance desk nurse without waiting for her dad.

"Quinn Fabray," she choked to the harassed-looking nurse, gripping the formica countertop tightly in her trembling hands.

"Are you family?"

"Yes. We're her family. My dad's just parking the car, he's right behind me." The nurse nodded without further interrogation, looking back at her computer monitor and tapping rapidly on the keys to bring up Quinn's status. And for once, Rachel didn't feel the slightest qualm about fudging a state-sanctioned family tie with her girlfriend, rather than raise an ACLU-oriented ruckus for gay rights and demand to be treated equally without having to lie. In this moment, nothing that would add even one extra minute to the length of time it would take before she saw Quinn was worth anything to her. Not even civil rights.

"Well your sister got into a head-on collision," the nurse said gently, leaning down to talk to Rachel in a much softer, though still businesslike, voice. "It looks like she was wearing her seat belt, thank God, but there's some internal bleeding and a punctured lung. They had to operate right away." Rachel nodded, tears finally welling up in her eyes and spilling silently down her face.

"But she'll—she'll be okay?"

"That's a complicated question right now, hon. I really need to speak to your parents." Rachel nodded, looking up to see her father running towards them across the lobby. The nurse continued explaining what she could of Quinn's status to Rachel and her father; how the impact of the truck's grill had broken two of her ribs and driven them into her lung, which now had to be re-inflated; how the blow had ruptured her spleen, which by itself was causing life-threatening internal bleeding that the doctors were doing everything they could to stop. How two of the fingers on her left hand had been severed in the collision, but another set of doctors were working on reattaching them.

That did it. Rachel barely had a chance to turn her head before she vomited all over the floor. Her father grabbed her shoulders to steady her, and rubbed her back. "I'm sorry," Rachel whispered, stricken. She had never gotten nauseous so fast before, not like that.

"It's okay, baby," Jacob hummed gently, keeping up the gentle circles on her back and raising an eyebrow imploringly at the nurse, who turned and fetched a paper cup of water.

"The janitor will clean that up, honey, it's all right. Why don't you just come sit down over here." The nurse lead them to a set of hard plastic chairs on the other side of the room, closer to the swinging blue doors that lead to Quinn, and they sat obediently, with the promise that a doctor would keep them informed the moment they had something to report.

"Quinn, please, don't die," Rachel whispered to herself, rocking back and forth in her seat with her arms wrapped around her knees. She knew Quinn couldn't hear her; but it didn't matter. "Please don't die...please, God, please don't take her..." Time began to lose meaning again, so quickly, as she sat there rocking; just like it had before, on the phone with her daddy, when she could see the dust motes. She could feel her dad's hand on her shoulder, but other than that the entire sensory world was faded and receding. It was her fault. Her fault. Her fault Quinn was rushing, her fault Quinn was texting and driving. Her fault Quinn hadn't seen the oncoming traffic. Rachel had never known guilt like this before, so sharp it felt like grief. But Quinn was _not_ going to die. She just wasn't.

Time continued to float aimlessly by; Santana and Brittany were the first to show up. Rachel was jolted out of her rocking when she looked up and saw Santana's face, reflecting back her own stricken expression. The girl sprinted across the room in almost the same amount of time it took Rachel just to stand up, and instantly Santana's arms were locking around her, and Rachel was sobbing. Santana didn't say a word; just held her fiercely, humming a wordless tune as the shorter girl's sobs worked themselves out, and eventually tapered to sniffles. After a while, Rachel noticed that Brittany had joined them; then Quinn's mom was there hugging Rachel's dad as they cried together. Then Mercedes was there, then Kurt, Blaine and Puck. Once Rachel and her dad had relayed the brunt of what they knew (they left out the graphic details, both wanting to spare the others such nightmarish images when they closed their eyes) they all lapsed quickly back into silent waiting mode, numb with shock and exhaustion as all their adrenalin levels shot up and crashed back down again as the hours ticked by.

Finally, a doctor walked out from behind the swinging blue doors and said, "Quinn Fabray family?"

…...

Quinn was out of the operating room in "serious but stable" condition when Judy, Jacob and Rachel (whom the doctor took to be Quinn's mother, father and sister, none of them bothering to correct her) were finally allowed in to sit by her bedside. It was made clear that she probably wouldn't wake up for hours, or possibly even days; but the worst was over, and the doctors had repaired all the damage they could. Her spleen and lung were repaired, the ribs and fingers were set, and the blood she'd lost was being replenished by transfusion. The main worry the doctors still had was the swelling in her wrenched spinal column; but they wouldn't know anything about the severity of the damage until the swelling went down. She might be fine in weeks or months; or she might, the doctor had admitted when pressed, never walk again. But he swore it was truly to early to tell anything, and encouraged them all not to think about that as they sat around her bedside, waiting for her to wake up. Then he lead them to her room, harshly lit and filled with beeping instruments.

Quinn was paler than she had ever been. So much paler even than when she'd had mono, Rachel wouldn't have believed it was possible. Her face was bruised, nicked, a butterfly bandage on her cheekbone. Her left hand was completely encased in snowy white bandages. Monitors were hooked up to her heart rate, beeping out a steady electronic pulse, while a bag of rich red blood dangled from an IV pole, slowly dripping into the sleeping girl's veins. There were oxygen tubes in her nose. Rachel sat in the hard plastic chair on one side of Quinn's bed, and Judy sat on the other; while Jacob alternated between hovering over them and taking the final seat in the far corner of the room.

"We're all here, baby," Rachel whispered, picking up Quinn's limp hand—the one that wasn't smashed up and held together with bandages—and rubbed it against her cheek.

"Dad, she's cold," the little starlet said urgently, rubbing her girlfriend's icy-cold hand with both her own, and blowing on it. "Can we give her another blanket?"

"It's shock. Her body's still in shock," Jacob said hollowly, as he jumped to his feet and began rooting through the room's tidy cupboards for extra blankets, looking relieved to have something to do. "Here we are," he said absently when he found them, unfolding two—they were so thin, after all—and draping them over Quinn's sleeping body. Then he reached out and gently, excruciatingly gently, smoothed a lock of blonde hair back from her face.

"She's such an angel when she's sleeping," Judy remarked quietly, the first words she'd spoken in what felt like hours. Rachel picked up her girlfriend's chilled hand again, and pressed the soft palm to her face, her lips. _Please, God, let her wake up,_ the dark-haired starlet prayed; to God, to the Universe, to anyone who would listen. _I'll do anything. Just let her wake up._ Eventually, Rachel fell asleep with her head resting on Quinn's hip, one hand still entwined with her girlfriend's to keep it warm. When she woke, she urgently had to pee; but it was hard to make herself let go of Quinn's hand, and slip her warm fingers back out of the blonde girl's sleeping grip. As the cool air hit her warm palm, the unconscious girl stirred and whimpered softly in the back of her throat.

"Quinnie?" Judy gasped, sitting up straight from her dozing position and examining her daughter's face closely. Quinn's eyes were moving back and forth under the lids as they fought to open, soft sighs of interrupted dreams on her lips.

"Mom, I'm thirsty," she rasped softly, eyes still closed, like a sleepy child who didn't want to get out of bed. Jacob leapt out of his chair and filled the little plastic cup on Quinn's bedside with water from the pitcher, complete with bendy-straw, and handed it to Judy.

"Thank you Jake," Judy murmured absently, and in the back of her mind Rachel thought it was hilarious that her dad let Quinn's mom call him Jake. He used to hate that nickname. Judy held the straw to Quinn's parched lips, and the mostly-asleep girl took a few slow sips.

"Thanks, Mama," she murmured softly, twitching her nose sleepily. It was almost like she was just waking up on a lazy Sunday morning...almost as if the hospital and all its beeping machinery and life-saving tubes and monitors could completely disappear, if Rachel could just tilt her head the right way and close one eye. "Gotta get up for Rachel...Rachel's waiting for me. Gotta go fast..." Quinn yawned, and the iron band around Rachel's heart constricted. Again. _My fault._

"Oh, Quinn...I'm so sorry," Rachel whispered, picking Quinn's hand up again and kissing her knuckles, squeezing her eyes shut as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Mmm...s'okay Rach. M'okay. Just...sleep...little longer..."

"It's okay, baby. You can sleep as long as you want. I'm right here holding your hand, Quinn. I'm right here." Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand gently for emphasis. "And I'll be right here when you wake up."


	14. Sleepyhead

Hey everyone,

so I think for the next little while, I'm going to be posting shorter but more frequent updates. I just don't feel patient enough to wait until my usual "full chapter" length has been achieved; I want y'all to see every step of Quinn's recovery as soon as possible. I'm sure you won't complain, right? Please remember, I am not going to let Quinn suffer any permanent damage. Let me know what y'all think as this whole recovery process continues to unfold.

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 14: Sleepyhead**

…...

When Quinn's eyes finally fluttered open, the first thing she saw was a semi-circle of bowed heads all around her bed; Sam and Mercedes, Rachel, Puck, Finn, Kurt and Blaine, her mom, Brittany and Santana. They all seemed to be praying silently; Santana even gripped her grandmother's old rosary, rubbing the smooth black beads between her fingers. Why were they praying? Did she fall asleep in church? Or had they come into her bedroom? She couldn't remember. Was this a dream? Everything was fuzzy around the edges, and she couldn't remember how she got here. It had to be a dream.

Rachel sniffled, unknowingly drawing her girlfriend's sleepy hazel eyes to her as she wiped her eyes and nose, both of which looked pink and raw, on a crumpled tissue. Even if this _was_ a dream, Quinn didn't want Rachel to be sad. It was _her_ dream, so she could make Rachel happy again.

"Why's everybody so sad?" she asked woozily, surprised at how raspy and faint her voice sounded. Every head immediately jerked up and stared at her with a mixture of joy and shock on their tear-streaked faces.

"Oh, sweetheart, thank God you're awake," her mother sobbed, jumping up from her chair and kissing Quinn gently on her forehead, like she used to when Quinn was little and had a fever.

"Am I sick?" the blonde girl asked in sleepy confusion. She was starting to doubt that this was a dream now; but it still didn't seem quite right, somehow. She felt so sleepy, everything was in slow motion. And she was so cold.

"No, honey, you got in a car accident. We're in the hospital, and the doctors are taking very good care of you. Are you in any pain, baby?"

"I'm cold," Quinn whimpered. She raised a hand to try to rub her eyes, but found it covered in bandages. "Something's wrong with my hand," she frowned in confusion.

"I know, sweetheart. You need to leave it alone so it can heal and get better," Judy said soothingly, pushing Quinn's arm down gently to the bed so she wouldn't cause herself any harm. On her other side, Rachel reached out a warm hand and felt her cheek. The sleepy blonde girl turned and beamed woozily at her girlfriend, who had fresh tears welling up in her beautiful brown eyes.

"Sad girl," Quinn murmured, reaching out her other hand—the one that she still had full use of—and stroking a few tears from Rachel's cheek. "Don't be sad, little starfish." Rachel beamed through her tears, pressing her own hand over Quinn's against her cheek, and leaned in to press an exquisitely gentle kiss to her lips, carefully avoiding the oxygen tubes running into her nose.

"Stay with me, and I'll never be sad again," Rachel whispered, her voice sounding even rougher and raspier than Quinn's.

"Of course I will," Quinn smiled, yawning. "Where would I go...without you?" Brittany sniffled then, and Quinn saw her turn and hug Santana as tears spilled down both their faces.

"Judy, she's still freezing," Rachel said in a low, worried voice, rubbing her hand briskly up and down Quinn's arm. "I thought the doctor said the shock would wear off once the transfusions were complete."

"He did," Judy frowned, feeling Quinn's cheek and then glancing up at the computer monitor beside her bed. In the top corner, it registered a body temperature of 96.1. "I'm going to get someone," she said anxiously. "Quinnie, sweetheart, I'm coming right back. Just lie still and relax, and your friends will all stay here with you." Everyone nodded enthusiastically, obviously thrilled not to get kicked out of the room now that Quinn was awake.

"'Kay," Quinn yawned again, still unclear on why everyone was being so deferential; but she didn't want to hurt their feelings, so she decided to just go ahead and let them, if it would make them all feel better. As her mom rushed out into the hall to find a doctor, Quinn felt another blanket being draped across her body, and looked up to see Kurt and Mercedes standing on either side of her, settling the fabric's edges around her shoulders. "Thank you," she murmured woozily.

"No problem, hon," Kurt said with a strained smile. His eyes were red too, just like Rachel's and Santana's.

"It's still so cold," she complained, looking beseechingly up into her girlfriend's tired brown eyes. "Cuddle me," she requested drowsily, with a smile. Rachel bit her lip, and looked like she was struggling to keep her tears in check.

"Oh, baby...I'm scared I might hurt you," she shook her head, sitting tentatively on the very edge of Quinn's bed and stroking her cold cheek.

"You won't hurt me," Quinn snorted softly, as if the idea were completely ridiculous.

"Honey, you're...you're all banged up right now," Rachel explained gently, picking up her girlfriend's chilled hand and holding it to her cheek, then blowing on it to warm it as best she could. "I really am afraid of doing anything that could hurt your stitches."

"Rach, please," Quinn whimpered; and for the first time, tears welled up in her eyes. The entire room tensed in obvious agitation at the injured girl's distress. "I'm so cold, I don't understand what's happening...I need you..."

"Get in the damn bed and make her feel better, Berry!" Puck commanded gruffly, standing up in agitation.

"Just be gentle," Santana said quietly, squeezing Rachel's shoulder in obvious sympathy for the little starlet's anxiety. "You're so tiny, I don't think you could inflict any damage even if you wanted to." Rachel smiled weakly at the feeble joke, and nodded, standing up and slipping off her shoes before climbing daintily under the blankets and curling up against Quinn's right side, resting her weight on her elbow so she could lean over her girlfriend's battered body, kissing her very gently and stroking her hair.

"Is that better, angel?"

"Yeah...thank you," Quinn murmured, yawning and closing her eyes again as she leaned her head against Rachel's shoulder. Then the door opened and the doctor strode briskly in, and Rachel squeaked in alarm and rolled over so fast, she fell out of the bed. Luckily, Santana was standing right by their side, and caught her easily before she hit the floor.

"Hi there, Quinn, I'm Dr. Monroe. It's very good to see you awake. Are you in any pain?"

"I'm just cold," Quinn whined, getting very impatient with having to explain something so simple over and over. "These blankets are sucky." The doctor looked at all her vital signs on the computer readout, and frowned slightly, looking to Mrs. Fabray as she hurried back into the room on his heels.

"She's in hypovolemic shock," he explained, gently removing the oxygen tubes from her nose and replacing them with a clear mask that fully covered her nose and mouth. "It's still in the early stages, but we need to move quickly. I'm sorry, kids, I need you all to clear the room now." He was already striding to the mounted phone on the wall, and giving orders in low, urgent tones, as the glee kids all looked at each other regretfully and stood to leave.

"No, I'm okay," Quinn mumbled woozily from behind the oxygen mask, regretful that her complaint was causing all her friends to leave.

"We'll come back soon, querida," Santana murmured, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek. "We just gotta let the doctors take care of you now. They know what they're doing, Q, you're gonna be okay. I promise." Tears spilled from the blonde girl's tired hazel eyes as she reached out and locked her fingers around her best friend's wrist.

"You stay. Please. And Rachel." Santana and Rachel looked at each other anxiously. The idea of leaving Quinn so helpless and alone when she wanted them to stay was awful; but no more so than getting in the way of the doctors when they were trying to help her.

"Out of the way, please!" Two nurses bustled in with a stiff silver blanket and a new IV pole. Rachel and Santana both leapt back instantly, pressing themselves up against the wall as the nurses worked.

"We're right here, baby. We're not leaving," Rachel promised, as Mrs. Fabray circled around the bed to join them, squeezing Rachel's shoulder with a weak smile of gratitude.

"Promise," Quinn requested urgently, her eyes fighting to stay open.

"We promise, Q. We're not going anywhere," Santana said gently, locking her eyes on her best friend's disoriented gaze and giving her a reassuring smile.

"Good," Quinn smiled back woozily, finally letting her eyes fall shut as the nurses worked around her. One of them unhooked the IV drip going into her arm from and attached it to the new bag, while the other stripped off all her blankets and replaced them with the stiff silver one, which was apparently electric, immediately warming to combat the effects of the shock on Quinn's battered body. Rachel couldn't stop herself from looking at Quinn's legs, sticking out pale and bruised from her hospital gown, before she was covered up with the new blanket; it wasn't nearly as bad as she'd feared. Yes, Quinn's legs were badly bruised; but they weren't broken, or scarred, or bloody. They still had the same sleek muscle tone as always. They were good legs. _Whatever happens, she is going to walk again_, Rachel told herself silently. No matter how hard she had to work, she was going to make sure of that.


	15. Root Beer Popsicles

Hey guys,

Thanks for all your feedback—I'm glad this story is making you feel better and not worse! Onward, Faberry soldiers! Enjoy the update :)

—WBB

….

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 15: Root Beer Popsicles**

…

The next time Quinn woke up, she was significantly more clear-headed; but also in significantly more pain. She groaned pitifully as she opened her eyes, blinking in the harsh light, as her mom and Santana immediately leaned to comfort her.

"Quinnie, sweetheart, we're here. How do you feel?" Judy asked anxiously, taking in her daughter's ashen-pale complexion and the thin sheen of sweat breaking out across her forehead.

"I'm gonna throw up," Quinn whispered miserably. Santana stood to find a puke-receptacle of some kind from the cabinets, but before she'd had a chance to fetch it, the sickly-pale girl was retching a watery, acid-green bile all over her blankets.

"It's okay baby, Mama's here," Judy murmured soothingly, rubbing Quinn's back and smoothing her mussed blonde hair back from her face, completely unperturbed by the fact that she was getting puked on. Quinn closed her eyes, panting shallowly, as Santana returned with a plastic bowl and set it in her lap, stripping away the sodden blanket and throwing it on the floor without a second glance.

"I'm here too, Q. I got you," the Latina said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her friend and holding the bowl up closer to her face when she started retching again. "Should I go get someone?" Santana asked Quinn's mom in a low, worried voice.

"No," Quinn moaned, her eyes still closed as she tried to regain her breath. "Don't go, San. Keep your hands on me."

"Okay, mija, I'm right here," Santana crooned softly, glancing anxiously at Judy as they both took in the blonde girl's worsening pallor, her skin so pale it was starting to take on an almost greenish tinge. Santana knew her best friend must be feeling really horrible, because she hadn't displayed even the slightest embarrassment about throwing up in front of them and making a mess of the bedding. Judy pressed the red emergency button beside her daughter's bed, summoning help without either of them having to leave her side.

"It hurts," Quinn whispered, her good hand trembling as it squeezed Santana's in distress. "What happened to me...where's Rachel?" Blinking around the room, Quinn slowly began to take in the overflow of flowers, balloons, stuffed animals, and other gifts surrounding her bed. Clearly, she'd been here more than a few hours; but how long? Days? Weeks? She was confused, nauseous, and in pain, and she needed her girlfriend desperately.

"Rachel's here, sweetheart. She's just downstairs with her dads getting some coffee." The mention of coffee made Quinn retch again; but there was nothing left in her stomach to come up.

"What's happening, Mom?" the blonde girl groaned, finally laying back against the pillows as the acute nausea passed, and her breathing began to even out again.

"You had a car accident, baby. We're in the hospital now," Judy explained for the fourth or fifth time in the last two days, as Quinn had so far remembered nothing each time she'd woken up.

"The hospital? How bad is it?" Quinn asked, her voice still weak, but much less spacey sounding than before, as Judy wiped her pale face with a damp washcloth.

"It was touch and go for a while there, but you're gonna be okay querida," Santana promised, keeping up a gentle rhythm of stroking her best friend's hair as it seemed to calm her and help with the nausea. That was when Rachel walked back in, carrying a little tray with three cups of hot coffee, and gasped in alarm at the scene, her dads right behind her.

"What happened?" the dark-haired girl asked anxiously.

"Get that coffee out of here," Santana said sharply, watching the greenish pallor return instantly to Quinn's face at the faint scent of the bitter coffee rising into the air. Rachel turned and shoved the tray into her dad's hands, and rushed around the bed to join Santana at Quinn's side.

"Hey baby, did you throw up? Is your tummy very upset? I'm here," Rachel murmured, and Quinn noticed through her own pain and general distress how rough and raspy her girlfriend's voice sounded, like she hadn't slept in days.

"Yeah," Quinn nodded weakly, "But I think I'm okay now...I think I'm done puking, anyway. What happened, Rach? I don't remember..." Rachel bit her lip, trying to be brave for Quinn and not start crying again as their fingers threaded gently together on top of her hospital gown.

"You got hit by a pickup truck, honey," Rachel explained quietly, stroking her thumb soothingly over the back of Quinn's hand. "You were banged up real bad, and the doctors had to patch you up. But you're gonna be okay now."

"Car accident..." Quinn mumbled to herself, squeezing her eyes shut to clear her head. "I was going to your house...we were going to New York..."

"Don't worry about that right now, baby," Rachel said gently, as Dr. Monroe strode back into the room with two new nurses on his tail, who immediately began cleaning up the soiled bedding and bringing out fresh blankets from the cupboards.

"Hello again, Quinn, I'm very glad to see you awake. And from the state of your room, I'd say I'm not the only one," the doctor joked kindly, nodding his head at the overflow of get-well gifts filling the room. "I imagine you're feeling some pain right now?"

"Yes," Quinn groaned, dropping her head back limply against the pillows. "My ribs...and my hand..."

"This should help considerably," the doctor said, going over to one of the machines beside Quinn's bed and pressing a little button attached to a tube than ran into the crook of Quinn's arm. "This is a morphine pump. You can go ahead and hit it as soon as the pain gets bad, and it will send the medication straight into your bloodstream."

"Thank you," the blonde girl sighed gratefully, visibly relaxing as the painkillers hit her system.

"Why wasn't she in pain like this before?" Judy asked anxiously, as Dr. Monroe began checking Quinn's vitals.

"We had her on nerve blockers for the last couple of days to help with the finger reattachment. It minimizes vascular spasms, which is crucial in the first 48 hours after surgery to increase the blood flow and the odds of a successful reattachment. But beyond 48 hours, the risks of continuing the nerve blockers becomes much more severe, especially with a spinal injury." Quinn closed her eyes, reeling from the doctor's words. Finger reattachment...spinal injury...this couldn't be real. It just couldn't. She was just on her way to Rachel's house. They were catching a flight to New York for spring break. She shifted slightly under the new blankets as the nurses laid them over her, and as a dull stab of pain shot down her ribcage, she realized something that put all other concerns squarely on the back burner.

"I can't feel my legs," Quinn gasped, looking from her girlfriend, to her best friend, to her mom, all of them looking back at her with the same crestfallen, teary expression. "Mom, I can't feel my legs."

"Your spine suffered a traumatic blow in the accident, Quinn," Dr. Monroe explained in a gentle but straightforward voice. "At this point, we can't say whether or not the condition is permanent, and that's a very good sign. You have what's known as an incomplete spinal injury, meaning there is still evidence of nerve activity below the waist; whether you'll be able to recover some or all of your mobility will most likely be revealed in the coming weeks. I know this is a lot to take in, but do you have any questions for me right now?"

Quinn just stared at the doctor blankly, her hazel eyes welling up with tears as she shook her head. "Well, when you do, I'll be here. You've had some very invasive surgeries, and we'll need to keep you here in the hospital for at least another week to monitor your recovery; but all things considered, you're a very lucky young lady. If the angle of impact had been slightly different, or if you hadn't been wearing your seatbelt, you wouldn't be with us today."

"Thank you," Quinn whispered dully, obviously not past the shock of all this new information that her brain was, finally, clearheaded enough to process.

"Here's the name and number of the social worker we refer new spinal patients to," the doctor said to Mrs. Fabray, handing her a small, cream-colored business card. "It's very important that Quinn have someone experienced to talk to in the coming weeks and months, whatever the outcome of her physical therapy."

"Thank you, doctor," Judy said gravely, tucking the card into her purse with a weak smile.

"Yeah, thanks Dr. M," Santana nodded fervently.

"You're very welcome, young lady. I'll be back to check on you before the end of my shift, Quinn, but don't hesitate to use that call button if you need anything, and a nurse will come and check on you." The doctor gave them all a stoic nod, and exited the room, taking the nurses with him. Quinn rubbed her eyes with her good hand, noting as she blinked around the room that Rachel's dads and her mom's boyfriend, Tom, had all crowded in after the doctor left.

"I don't know what to do now," Quinn said softly, looking lost and fragile as she gazed absently around the room.

"You don't have to do anything, mija," Santana said gently, rubbing her arm. "Just relax and let us take care of you. D'you want a popsicle, or some ginger ale? You haven't had anything to eat in two days, so your tummy probably can't handle anything more than that quite yet."

"Sure, a popsicle would be nice," Quinn nodded absently, suddenly aware of how parched her throat felt.

"No prob, I'm on it," Santana smiled, obviously thrilled to have something tangible to do as she jumped up from the edge of the bed. "Root beer?"

"Yeah," Quinn smiled faintly, surprised that her best friend still remembered what kind of popsicles she liked best from their childhood summers.

"'Kay. Be right back. I'm gonna text B and everybody, and let them know you're awake for real. They'll all be so relieved." Santana stroked Quinn's hair and kissed her on the cheek before striding almost giddily from the room. As soon as she was gone, Quinn looked around at the remaining small crowd, all of them smiling at her like she was the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen; though she seriously doubted she looked anywhere near her best right now. She tried to smile back at them, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Can I be alone with Rachel for a few minutes, guys?" she asked softly, settling back against the pillows with a soft yawn.

"Sure, baby girl. Whatever you want," Michael smiled down at her, his expression as devoted as any father. Jacob, Judy and Tom all nodded, and when Judy stood from the rigid plastic chair, it was obvious she was stiff from sitting there so long. It gave Quinn a slight pang of guilt, but a much stronger rush of gratitude.

"Don't go too far, Mom," the blonde girl said quietly, automatically reaching out with her left hand before she remembered that it was currently useless and hidden inside a mountain of bandages.

"I'll be right out in the waiting room, baby," Judy smiled, stroking her daughter's pale cheek and kissing her forehead. Quinn couldn't remember ever getting kissed so much...maybe the time when she was four and her parents had thought she'd run away after overhearing them fight, only to find her hours later, asleep in the back corner of the hall closet.

"Thanks," Quinn smiled weakly. When all the adults had left, Rachel automatically kicked off her shoes and slipped very gently into bed beside her injured girlfriend, kissing her far more thoroughly than Santana or her mom had.

"Thought I was gonna lose you," the dark-haired girl whispered, leaning her forehead against Quinn's temple with a soft sigh as the reality that Quinn wasn't going to die finally began to sink in; and all her tense muscles went limp with exhaustion.

"I'm so sorry, Rach," Quinn shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

_"You're_ sorry?" Rachel croaked incredulously. "Quinn, you almost _died._ And it's all my fault! _I'm_ the one who's sorry; I'm so sorry I don't even know how to begin to tell you..."

"It's not your fault, baby," Quinn shook her head, reaching up to stroke Rachel's cheek with her good hand. "Accidents happen. I should have been paying attention. You must've been so scared..."

"I can't believe you're worrying about _my_ feelings right now," Rachel half-laughed, half sobbed, a beaming smile breaking across her face as Quinn's inherent caretaking nature asserted itself, even through all the pain and the shock and the terror.

"Well, I am. And I'm also worrying about your Julliard audition."

"Quinn, please. That doesn't matter now," Rachel shook her head, wiping away the tears that blurred her vision before they could fall. "I'm not leaving your side ever again, my sweet angel..."

"Rachel, you can't do that," Quinn whimpered, her voice cracking as her own eyes filled up with tears. "I don't know what's going to happen now...but I know you are going to Julliard, no matter what. You have to go to your audition, they're _not_ going to reschedule again. This was their very last opening, remember?"

"I could give a fuck!" Rachel cried, her eyes flashing as more tears spilled down her face. Quinn shook her head, stroking her thumb across Rachel's damp cheek.

"Look at you," she whispered brokenly, her tired hazel eyes taking in her girlfriend's pale, drawn face; the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, the raspy hoarseness in her voice. "You haven't slept in days, have you?"

"A little. Next to your bed," Rachel shrugged, taking Quinn's hand from her cheek and kissing it. "I couldn't leave you, Quinn...not like this. You wouldn't have left me either, if you'd been in my shoes, so don't pretend otherwise. I don't care what I'm missing right now, nothing else matters anyway."

"I know," Quinn nodded, smiling sadly. "But Rach, I'm here now...and I'm not going anywhere. Your audition won't wait for you, but I will. Do you hear me? You_ have_ to take the audition, or...or else this is all for nothing." She gestured to her hospital bed vaguely with her bandaged hand, and Rachel choked on a stifled sob.

"Jesus, Quinn..." the little starlet shook her head hopelessly, staring up at the ceiling to try to hold back her tears. That was when Santana came back in with the popsicle.

"Oh...hey chicas," she said warily, instantly picking up on the strained vibe between her two friends. "Want me to get out of here?"

"No, stay," Quinn shook her head. "I need your help with Rachel."

"Um, okay," Santana frowned in confusion, sitting on the edge of the bed across from Rachel and carefully unwrapping the root beer flavored popsicle, handing it to Quinn so she could hold it with her good hand.

"Thank you," Quinn murmured, groaning gratefully when the cold, sweet ice touched her lips. "Wow...that's like the best thing I've ever tasted," she sighed, and for a minute Rachel and Santana just smiled goofily at each other, almost high with the joy of sharing Quinn's moment of pleasure after days of pain and terror and confusion.

"Just say the word, and I'll bring you one every hour on the hour," Santana smiled, scooting a little closer to the middle of the bed now that her fear of accidentally hurting Quinn was fading.

"Actually, I'd rather ask you for something else, San," Quinn said thoughtfully, looking from her best friend to her girlfriend.

"Anything, Q. I'll do anything," Santana said seriously, gently squeezing her best friend's shoulder.

"Take Rachel home and help get her ready for her Julliard audition. Make sure she gets on the plane. Tie her down and throw her into the cargo hold if you have to."

"What?" Santana raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Quinn, no," Rachel groaned, shaking her head desperately.

"I will be here when you get back, Rach. I will be right exactly here," Quinn pointed at her bed, glaring. "And when all this...this madness is over, we are _both_ going to New York to start our lives together. I am _going_ to Columbia. And you, Rachel Barbra Berry, are going to fucking Julliard, so help me God."

"I think our girl really is back, Shortcake," Santana said quietly, with a little smirk. Quinn winked at her. All three of them giggled, until Quinn's laughter turned into a gasp of pain and she dropped her popsicle on the bedspread.

"Okay, shh, you're okay angel," Rachel hummed softly, rubbing gentle circles over her girlfriend's back as she panted shallowly, closing her eyes until the wave of pain slowly passed.

"Fuck me...I feel like I got hit by a fucking truck," the blonde girl sighed, cracking one eye open with a weak, teasing grin.

"Quinn Fabray, you are the absolute limit," Rachel shook her head, unable to stop the answering smile that blossomed on her own lips. "What am I ever going to do with you?"

"Anything you want. For the rest of our lives," Quinn promised, picking up her popsicle from the bedspread and taking another lick. "But today you are getting on a plane to New York, and that's that."

"I think the queen has spoken," Santana smiled, and already Rachel could see how much color had returned to the Latina's face as she watched her best friend sitting up, eating and joking with them. "C'mon Thumbelina, let's get you home. You've got an audition to prepare for."


	16. Even Crazy Dreams

A/N: Rachel's other audition song (besides the one you'll recognize) is Crazy Dreams by Carrie Underwood. But actually, the version I'm stealing from is Megan Hilty (Ivy Lynn) from Smash, which I hope you're all watching! And if not, you should really go check it out. It's hard to imagine any Glee fan not liking Smash too. Especially right now while we're on hiatus in cliffhanger purgatory, and need to occupy our brains so desperately. Enjoy the chap!

Also, quick reminder: in my world, Rachel and her dads have always kept in touch with Shelby, who became a successful off-Broadway actress in NYC. So don't be surprised when you see her! :)

—WBB

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 16: Even Crazy Dreams**

…...

"I can't do this, Santana," Rachel shook her head miserably as the two girls entered the front hallway of the Berry home, one poking the other in the back to keep her moving. "How can I leave her like this, so helpless and fragile and alone? I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

"Well I've already gotten puked on once today, so if you can keep your breakfast down I'd really appreciate it," Santana said matter-of-factly, without a sarcastic jab for once, steering the frazzled little diva into the kitchen and pushing her down forcefully into a chair at the table. "And you're not leaving her alone, Shortcake. She's got her mom, your dads, B and Kurt and Blaine and half the glee club in there with her, plus most of the school checking in, not to mention all the doctors and nurses going in and out every half hour. Q has plenty of people taking care of her right now...and she asked _me_ to take care of _you_, so that's what I'm gonna do," Santana said decisively, with a little nod as she began rooting through cupboards and pulling out mugs and saucers. "Since you sound like you've been gargling sandpaper for two days, I think we'd better start with some tea for your throat before you get to any singing. I know you've got some kind of magic herbal crap around here for voice-related emergencies, so where is it?"

"I don't deserve to have anyone take care of me," Rachel shook her head, staring down blankly at her hands as her tired brown eyes filled up with fresh tears. "It's all my fault, Santana...Quinn's accident is all my fault. I should burn in the ninth circle of hell. And I don't even believe in hell. But that's what I deserve." Rachel sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand as tears spilled down her cheeks, looking so exhausted and emotionally wrecked that the usually hot-tempered Latina couldn't help but lower her own voice as she came and sat beside her friend at the table, reaching a hand out tentatively to rub the other girl's shaking back.

"What are you talking about? The accident wasn't your fault, you weren't even there. I think you're going a little crazy from sleep deprivation, querida."

"It was," Rachel whispered, shaking her head miserably as she continued to stare down at her hands. "I distracted her...I was texting her to hurry up, because I was worried about missing our stupid flight. I knew she was behind the wheel, but I texted her anyway. If she hadn't been distracted, trying to text me back...she would've seen the truck coming. I should be the one lying in that hospital bed, not her. Not my Quinn..." Rachel's voice choked into a gut-wrenching sob, and Santana pulled her into a tight hug, rocking the smaller girl and shushing her for several long, quiet minutes. Finally, when Rachel's sobs had quieted to broken sniffles, Santana pulled back and took the shorter girl's tear-streaked face in both hands, forcing her to make eye contact.

"Rachel, listen to me. What happened was _not_ your fault. It was Q's choice to open that text while she was driving, and she knew just as well as you did that it wasn't a smart thing to do. We _all_ know that...and we all do it anyway. Because we're stupid fucking teenagers who think we're immortal, that things like this only happen to other people. You think you're the only person who ever texted someone who was driving?" Rachel shrugged glumly, clearly not ready to let go of the conviction that all blame for Quinn's pain and suffering belonged squarely on her shoulders.

"You _weren't there_, Rachel," Santana said quietly, her voice controlled but her eyes flashing. "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident, period. And any more time you spend torturing yourself now with this guilt, is one less minute you can be there for Quinn, do you understand that? You need to focus on what's gonna help her _now_. And today, that means getting yourself ready for this audition, so you can come home again and tell her that you _both_ have a future waiting for you in New York next year. You get me, Shortcake?"

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, more tears streaming down her face as she nodded weakly. Santana kissed the top of her head and stood up to fetch the sniffling girl some tea. Rachel was still too much of a mess to be any help, so Santana just hunted through the cabinets until she found the Berrys' tea stash, finding one labeled "Breathe Easy," and plunking the tea bag into a mug of steaming hot water along with a generous dollop of honey.

"Here, drink up," Santana said gently, ruffling Rachel's hair as she sat beside her and pushed the fragrant mug of tea across the table. Rachel took it without saying a word, and for a few minutes they sat in silence, punctuated only by the shorter girl's quiet sipping and occasional sniffles.

"I don't think I can do it, Santana," Rachel murmured finally, her voice so weak, so exhausted, so utterly shellshocked, that for a moment it broke Santana's heart. "I want to be strong for Quinn...but I feel like an empty shell. I don't think I can make it by myself." When Rachel finally raised her red eyes, Santana was gazing at her with a thoughtful and serious expression, her chin resting in her hand.

"What if I came with you?"

…...

The sun was setting into a brilliant purple sky outside Quinn's hospital window the next time her best friend and her girlfriend walked in, both smiling, though they still looked just as exhausted as they had when they'd left that morning. Quinn beamed sleepily at them, woozy from the fresh dose of Morphine she'd just gotten, and held out her good hand for hugs and kisses.

"Hey, angel face," Rachel murmured, leaning down and kissing the blonde girl very gently on her forehead, her nose, her pale lips. "I see you've got some more friends here to keep you company." She nodded toward the two stuffed animals tucked into Quinn's hospital bed with a little grin; one a six-legged flying monster named Appa that Rachel had given her last year for Hanukkah, and the other a well-worn and much loved stuffed donkey, Charlie, that she'd had since preschool.

"Yeah. Mom brought me some stuff from home," Quinn yawned, gesturing to the laptop and the stack of DVDs on the bedside table, along with a few books, her iPod, and other nicknacks to make the drab white hospital room more homey.

"Good, I'm glad you won't be all alone in a strange place without any home comforts," Rachel sighed, stroking Quinn's hair back from her face with a tired smile. "I hate leaving you like this, my sunshine...you know that, don't you?"

"I know," Quinn nodded sleepily, with a sad little smile. "And I hate making you go...but it's for our future, Rach. For both of us. And Santana's gonna be there to help you, right?"

"Yep, I got my marching orders. Tie her up and throw her into the cargo hold if I have to, right?" Santana winked, and Quinn giggled weakly for a moment before she gasped in pain and closed her eyes, her good hand going automatically to her ribs.

"Shit, I'm sorry Q, that was so stupid...I have to remember not to make you laugh, I'm such an idiot," Santana groaned, biting her lip anxiously.

"It's okay, San," the blonde girl panted weakly, opening her eyes as the sharp wave of pain slowly passed. "Everything hurts anyway...it's worth it to laugh a little. Don't be...too serious."

"Okay, mija." Santana leaned down and kissed her friend's pale forehead, stroking a lock of sleep-mussed blonde hair back from her face. "You be good while we're gone. No wild parties with the nurses after lights-out, you got that?"

"Got it," Quinn smiled weakly, rubbing her tired eyes with her good hand.

"We'll see you in a couple of days, okay sunshine?" Rachel picked up Quinn's good hand gently from the bed, and held it against her cheek. "You just relax and get lots of rest, and let the doctors and nurses take care of you."

"I will, Rach. I promise. And _you_ promise you'll get some rest before your audition, 'kay? You look like you're gonna pass out any minute, poor little starfish." Quinn stroked Rachel's cheek with her thumb, and Rachel smiled wistfully, leaning down and pressing one more exquisitely gentle kiss to the blonde girl's pale lips.

"I promise," the little starlet whispered, leaning her forehead briefly against her girlfriend's.

"Time to hit the road, girls," Jacob announced, coming into the room with Judy, who carried a cafeteria tray with a few snacks and beverages she hoped to coax Quinn into sharing with her.

"Drive carefully," Quinn said seriously from her bed, with a small, brave smile.

"I will, sweetheart. See you later tonight." Jacob ruffled her hair, and gave Judy a kiss on the cheek before collecting his two passengers and their suitcases, and hustling them out the door.

…...

Rachel and Santana both had to be shaken awake by the flight attendant when their plane landed at JFK, too woozy from exhaustion to be embarrassed about the rather cuddly position they found themselves in when they woke, with Rachel's head burrowed into Santana's shoulder, and Santana's cheek resting limply against the top of Rachel's head. They smiled sheepishly at each other as they rubbed their eyes and stretched from their cramped positions, both more rested than they'd been in days, as they made their way into the airport along with the other passengers to find Rachel's birth mom, Shelby, who was waiting for them by the baggage claim.

"Wow, check out the matching mother/daughter set," Santana remarked with one eyebrow raised, as Rachel introduced her to Shelby. "Nice to meet you, Ms. C."

"You can call me Shelby, and it's nice to meet you too, Santana," Shelby said with a small, but very bright smile as she stuck out her hand. "I'm so sorry about Quinn's accident, but I'm grateful you're here for Rachel right now. Julliard auditions don't come around every day, after all."

"Yeah, that's what Q said when she ordered us onto the plane," Santana grinned, relaxing as she shook Shelby's hand. There was something oddly familiar about her, maybe just in how similar her mannerisms were to Rachel's, that put the other girl at ease in her presence. "Gotta make sure we keep our whole crew together for next year."

"Are you applying to schools in the city too?" Shelby asked as the baggage carousel lurched into motion, and suitcases began streaming out onto the belt.

"Yeah, NYU and Fordham and PACE. And my girlfriend Brittany is applying to Alvin Ailey and Marymount."

"Goodness, what a talented group. I can't wait to meet the whole crew next year...you'll tell Quinn I send my best and can't wait to meet her, won't you Rachel?"

"Mm-hmm," Rachel nodded absently, her attention already focused on her bedazzled iPhone as she composed a new text to Quinn: _Landed at JFK. Miss you already. Kurt & Blaine should be arriving within the next 15 min to keep you company till bedtime. Sending hugs & kisses...did you get them yet? ;)_

Though she'd visited New York at least a dozen times in her life, it was the first time ever that Rachel wasn't bouncing in her seat all the way from the airport into the city, or staring out excitedly at the Manhattan skyline and pointing out familiar landmarks. In fact, she'd almost fallen asleep again on Santana's shoulder when the buzzing of her phone jarred her back into alertness. _Got your kisses, sending them back with interest,_ Quinn's text read. _Kurt & Blaine are here already, we're gonna watch The Birdcage. How did you know?_

_I set up a google spreadsheet_, Rachel replied, a sleepy smirk curling the corners of her mouth as she imagined Quinn's face when she got the message. _Tomorrow morning is Tina & Mercedes, then Britt & Mike, then Puck & Lauren till bedtime. I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be lonely. _It was only a moment before Rachel's phone lit up again with a new reply.

_ Mission accomplished, thx baby :) Tell Santana & your mom hi for me. _

"Everything okay back at the ranch?" Shelby asked warily, watching Rachel's attention sharpen instantly with the buzzing of her phone.

"Yep," Rachel nodded, a genuine, relaxed smile breaking over her face for the first time since leaving Quinn's hospital room in Lima. "Quinn says hi." She sent one final text back, _Will do, got your kisses back too :) _before sticking her phone back in her pocket, resting her head against Santana's shoulder, and falling almost instantly asleep as their cab crept slowly through the heavy traffic on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.

…...

Back in Quinn's hospital room, Kurt and Blaine were perched on either side of the blonde girl's bed with the laptop open on the rollaway dinner tray between them, laughing at Robin Williams and Nathan Lane on the screen, when a gray-haired nurse entered, snapping on a fresh pair of latex gloves and pulling out fresh bandages and antiseptic from the cabinets.

"I'm sorry kids, I'm going to have to ask you to take a break from your visiting for a few minutes. Miss Fabray here needs her bandages changed."

"Do we have to leave the room?" Blaine asked, watching Quinn's sleepy expression sharpen in an instant at the suggestion as her tired eyes widened, and her hand clenched around a fistful of his shirt.

"No, please, stay," she begged quietly, looking from her friends to the no-nonsense expression on the nurse's lined face. Kurt and Blaine both raised their eyebrows imploringly at the nurse, silently asking her permission.

"You can both stay in the room as long as you don't get in my way," the nurse nodded brusquely, approaching Quinn's left side as Kurt scurried off his perch on the edge of the bed, and circled around to join his boyfriend on the other side. The blonde girl smiled gratefully at her friends, lacing her fingers together tightly with Kurt's as the nurse began to unravel the bandages from her left hand.

"Will you tell me...if it's really bad?" Quinn whispered, keeping her eyes locked on Kurt's, deliberately not looking toward her left side. "I'm scared to look." Kurt nodded, feeling an anxious lump rise in his own throat as his imagination showed him a series of gruesome potential images of what Quinn's injured hand might look like under the bandages. He wished Mrs. Fabray were here for this, but she was back at the house making another supply run for toiletries and pajamas. Quinn winced and squeezed her eyes shut when she felt the bandages fall away, exposing her left hand to cool, fresh air.

"Well? Is it bad?" She asked quietly. Kurt and Blaine were both silent for a moment as they gazed at the stitches circling around the last two fingers on Quinn's hand, between the first and second joint. It wasn't nearly as bad as they'd been expecting, but it _was_ still a bit gruesome, there was no getting around it.

"Maybe you shouldn't look, honey," Kurt said quietly, squeezing Quinn's good hand in his own. A few tears welled up behind the blonde girl's closed lids and slipped down her cheeks.

"I'm going to do a few quick sensation tests now, dear," the nurse said as she came out with a lethal-looking silver instrument that was sharp and pointy on one end. "Just tell me if you feel anything, all right?"

"'Kay," Quinn sniffed quietly, eyes still tightly shut. The nurse prodded the tip of Quinn's ring finger firmly with the poker, and her eyes flew open immediately.

"Ow! Fuck!" She yelped indignantly, her eyes drawn without conscious thought to the source of the discomfort, and landing squarely on her stitched-together fingers. She didn't say another word, but her mouth hung open in shock as she stared at her hand. It wasn't as bad as she'd been imaging, either; actually, aside from the stitches circling her last two fingers like some garish bride-of-Frankenstein rings, it looked like a perfectly normal and healthy hand. But her eyes still brimmed with tears.

"That's very good, sweetheart, you're healing wonderfully," the nurse said encouragingly as she poked and prodded Quinn's hand in a few more uncomfortable places. "I know that smarts, but you'd have a lot more to worry about if it didn't. I'm just going to wrap you back up in some nice fresh dressing now, and then you can go back to your movie, all right?"

"Uh-huh," Quinn sniffed, tears spilling freely down her face as she stared transfixed at the stitches wrapping around her fingers.

"It's okay Quinn, you're gonna be okay," Kurt said gently, reaching for a tissue from the bedside table and gently wiping the tear tracks from the blonde girl's pale face as she squeezed her eyes shut with a soft whimper.

"I look like a monster," Quinn whispered miserably.

"No you _don't_," Blaine and Kurt huffed together in simultaneous incredulity.

"You look like the same brave, incredibly beautiful girl who has never once let the world keep her down, no matter what it tries to throw at you," Blaine said sincerely, looking to Kurt, who nodded his agreement.

"That's..._*sniff!*_...sweet of you to say," Quinn sighed sadly, looking unconvinced as fresh tears welled up in her tired hazel eyes.

"Pretty pretty please, don't you ever ever feel..." Kurt began to sing quietly, smiling down at the miserable blonde girl; and Blaine immediately jumped in to join him in the familiar harmony.

"Like you're less than, fuckin' perfect..." Quinn smiled reluctantly and opened her eyes, finding both her friends beaming at her like she really was the most perfect thing they'd ever seen in their lives.

"Pretty pretty please, if you ever, ever feel, like you're nothing, you're fuckin' perfect, to me..."

Before Quinn had another chance to look at her ugly wounds, the bandages were changed and the nurse was gone, leaving her to her own private concert. They settled back down to finish the movie, but not before Quinn's phone buzzed with a fresh message from Rachel, consisting of only one word: _Marco!_

_Polo :)_, Quinn texted back, reassuring her girlfriend that, yes, everything here was just fine. She hoped Rachel would take the simple comfort to heart, and focus on getting herself rested and prepared for tomorrow. Both their futures depended on it.

…...

The rest of the night and the next morning were a blur for Rachel; all she did was sleep, and drink cup after cup of tea when it was forced into her hands. As her audition call-time approached, she took a cursory shower and did a few vocal warm-ups instigated by the combined force of Shelby and Santana, who found themselves in a strange but natural alliance as _Operation Rock this Julliard Audition_ unfolded. By the time the little group arrived at the large recital hall at Julliard where the audition would happen, Rachel felt more alert, focused, and determined than she would've thought possible two days ago. It helped her nerves to keep up regular text check-ins with Quinn, sending a simple _Marco! _every so often,just so Quinn would reply _Polo :)_ and reassure her that all was well back at Lima Memorial Hospital.

Shelby and Santana sat side-by-side in the front row of the large, empty recital hall as Rachel took the stage, introducing herself politely to the admissions committee, who were all seated behind a small oak desk in the exact center of the many rows of empty seats. Santana quietly logged into Skype on her phone and dialed Quinn, as promised, so the blonde could watch Rachel's audition along with them from her hospital bed.

"Hi Q," the Latina whispered, leaning over with a little wave and a smile when her friend's bruised but smiling face came into view on the little screen. Quinn waved back, and Santana straightened up anxiously, holding the phone out facing forward so Quinn could see Rachel standing on the stage.

The little diva introduced her first audition piece, an aria from _La traviata_, which made everyone cry with its haunting beauty even though neither Santana nor Quinn understood a word of Italian. Rachel was wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks when the admissions committee applauded her, giving them a graceful curtsy as she introduced her ballad selection, Crazy Dreams. She didn't bother trying to hide the fresh tears that spilled down her face as she opened her mouth, as she began to sing with every ounce of her strength. For Quinn, for herself, for everything they had dreamed for the rest of their lives, no matter what the sometimes cruel world tried to throw at them.

_Hello you long-shots, you dark horse runners,  
>Hair brush singers, dash-board drummers,<br>Hello you wild magnolias, just waiting to bloom.  
>There's a little bit of all that inside of me and you,<br>Thank God even crazy dreams come true._

It was, Quinn felt as she watched Rachel on her laptop, like her girlfriend was singing for her and her alone; like a promise that their future was still intact, no matter how crazy the odds, or how many setbacks they faced. Their dreams were going to come true; that was Rachel's promise. And Quinn knew, no matter how bleak things seemed right now, that it was going to happen; because until it did, Rachel would never quit. Neither of them would.

_Here's to you free souls, you firefly chasers.__  
><em>_Tree climbers, porch swingers, air guitar players.__  
><em>_Here's to you fearless dancers, shaking walls in your bedrooms...__  
><em>_There's a lot of wonder left inside of me and you,__  
><em>_Thank God even crazy dreams come true.___

_Never let a bad day be enough, to go and talk you into giving up.__  
><em>_Sometimes everybody feels like you, oh, feels like you, just like you, yeah.___

_Here's to you long-shots, you dark horse runners__  
><em>_Hair brush singers, dash-board drummers__  
><em>_Here's to you wild magnolias, just waiting to bloom.__  
><em>_There's a little bit of all that inside of me and you.___

_Thank God even crazy dreams come true.__  
><em>_Thank God even crazy dreams come true, yeah._

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" Santana hooted, jumping up from her seat and applauding wildly along with Shelby and the admissions committee (who expressed their enthusiasm with slightly more decorum) as Rachel flushed pleasurably, and introduced her last selection, smiling directly into the tiny screen of Santana's phone, though it was too far from the stage for her to actually see Quinn's face smiling back at her. It didn't matter; she knew Quinn could see _her_.

_We stuck it out this far together  
>Put our dreams through the shredder<br>Let's toast cause things  
>Got better<em>

_And everything could change like that  
>And all these years go by so fast<br>But nothing lasts  
>Forever...<em>

_Here's to all that we kissed  
>And to all that we missed<br>To the biggest mistakes  
>That we just wouldn't trade<em>

_Here's to us breaking up  
>Without us breaking down<br>To whatever's coming our way_

_Here's to us!_

_Here's to us  
>Here's to love<br>All the times the we messed up  
>Here's to you<br>Fill the glass  
>Cause the last few nights have gone too fast<br>If they give you hell  
>Tell 'em to forget themselves<br>Here's to us..._

_Here's to love!_

_Here's to us!_

_...Here's to us._

When Rachel gave her final curtsy, the entire admissions committee was on their feet applauding. The little starlet beamed, her face flushed pink with pleasure, as her eyes moved over her small audience to the two dark-headed figures standing closest, both jumping up and down in their seats and clapping like crazy people. Rachel laughed in relief and delight as the head of the Julliard admissions board, a tall, thin man with enormous wire-rimmed glasses, cleared his throat.

"Miss Berry?" The large room went instantly quiet as Rachel clasped her hands anxiously, locking her gaze with his suddenly impish one. "I can't say this on the record quite yet, but...welcome to Julliard."

"Thank you," Rachel gasped, her grin threatening to take over her entire face as Santana shrieked into her phone, and Shelby applauded wildly. The little starlet climbed hastily down from the stage and shook hands with all the smiling members of the admissions committee, thanking them again for allowing her to reschedule her audition, as they assured her repeatedly that her performance had been well worth the wait. Rachel didn't even realize that her face was still streaked with tears until Shelby handed her a tissue.

"Quinn, did you hear that?" Rachel asked breathlessly, beaming as Santana finally handed over her phone.

"Fuck yeah," Quinn nodded, her smile a little woozy, but her hazel eyes glinting with happiness even on the small screen of the iPhone. "I'm so proud of you, baby...come home and I'll show you how much."

"Try and stop me," Rachel beamed, unable to stop the fresh tears that welled up and streamed down her face as she locked eyes with her girlfriend through the small video screen. "I love you so much, Quinn."

"I love you too, Rach. See you tomorrow, right?"

"Of course, baby. I'm coming straight to you as soon as our flight lands."

"'Kay," Quinn yawned, smiling sleepily. "Bye, Rach."

"Bye, angel," Rachel hummed softly, kissing the screen before she disconnected the call, beaming.

"Hey! Keep your slobber off my phone, Berry," Santana groused, giving Rachel a teasing smack on the ass as she yanked her phone back from the shorter girl; and Rachel actually giggled good-naturedly for the first time in days.

"Well I'd say this calls for a celebration of some sort," Shelby announced, after coming back from shaking hands with all the admissions committee and making sure that all Rachel's application paperwork was in order. "I know you both must be exhausted, but how about dinner? I know a great new vegan place in the west village that's getting rave reviews. My treat."

"As long as I can get something resembling french fries, I'm in," Santana shrugged. "What do you say, Tinkerbell?" Rachel thought about it for a minute, rubbing her stomach absently. Since the accident, she hadn't really eaten anything but plain oatmeal, toast and tea.

"Actually, that would be wonderful," she nodded slowly, a smile creeping across her flushed face. "I'm positively famished."


	17. Your Song

A/N: Rachel's song in this chap is by Elton John. Enjoy!

….

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 17: Your Song**

…

After the intense adrenalin high of her Julliard audition and a big, festive dinner at her new favorite vegan restaurant in the city, Rachel was just about ready to pass out by the time they all got back to Shelby's apartment that night. Their return tickets were on the earliest flight out of JFK the next morning, so Santana didn't argue when Rachel said she wanted to go straight to bed as soon as they got home. The two girls took turns in the small guest bathroom, and by the time Santana joined Rachel on the big pull-out futon in the living room, the little starlet was practically asleep already with the lights still on.

"You still conscious over there, Thumbelina?" Santana teased gently, flipping off the overhead lights and climbing under the covers next to her.

"Mm-hmm," Rachel sighed, rolling over to face the other girl with a soft yawn. "Thanks for coming with me, Santana...I'm glad we're friends now."

"Me too, Shortcake," the Latina smiled impishly in the moonlight, charmed by how sweet and unguarded the shorter girl was in her sleepy state. "After everything you and Q have done for me when I was such a bitch to you...I'm glad there was _something_ I could do to help you out."

"Mm," Rachel yawned again, eyes closed, looking more relaxed than she'd been in days. "Just keep being there for Quinn...that's all you can do for me now."

"That's the plan," Santana agreed, with a yawn of her own as she settled down and closed her eyes. "We'll get her back on her feet...then we'll all be in New York together next year. Me and B...you and Q...and the wonderboys...gonna be awesome."

"Totally awesome," Rachel sighed in agreement. Then she groaned in annoyance when her phone vibrated in her bag.

"Don't answer that," Santana grumbled, rolling over and pulling her pillow over her head. "Unless it's Q," she amended absently from behind the pillow.

"Hey babydoll," Rachel yawned into the phone, effectively answering Santana's question. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's okay. I just can't sleep," Quinn sighed petulantly over the phone. "There's so many weird beeps and machine sounds, and people walking up and down the halls, and they never turn all the lights off, and my chest hurts, and I miss my own bed. Would you sing me a lullaby, Rach?"

"Aw, of course angel…" Rachel yawned and rubbed absently at her puffy eyes, not bothering to sit up or compose herself at all before she started to sing softly into the phone.

_It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside…  
>I'm not one of those who can easily hide<br>I don't have much money, but if I did  
>I'd buy a big house where we both could live…<em>

_If I was a sculptor, but then again, no  
>Or a girl who makes potions in a traveling show<br>I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do  
>My gift is my song, and this one's for you.<em>

_And you can tell everybody this is your song  
>It may be quite simple, but now that it's done<br>I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words…  
>How wonderful life is while you're in the world.<em>

When the song ended, Rachel lay still for a moment in the darkness, unsure whether Quinn was still awake on the other end of the phone. She didn't want to risk jolting the other girl if she really was about to fall asleep; but if Quinn didn't hang up the phone on her end, she'd just end up being woken by a dial tone or busy signal in her ear in another minute, anyway. Rachel sighed regretfully, as a wave of fresh guilt washed over her for not being there by Quinn's side, even if it was only for a couple of days.

"Quinnie?" she murmured quietly.

"Mm," came the soft reply through the phone, barely more than a whisper.

"Hang up the phone, baby," Rachel cooed softly.

"'Kay…love you," Quinn yawned. Then the line went dead. Rachel sighed sleepily and hung up her phone, keeping it next to her pillow, just in case Quinn needed her again before morning.

….

It felt like only a few minutes had passed before the alarm was trilling, and the two exhausted girls were being dragged out of bed by an overly-chipper Shelby. Rachel was normally as much of a morning person as her birth mom; but even for her, 4:30am was a stretch on a good day, let alone after so much emotional upheaval and sleep deprivation. But, the little starlet reminded herself as Santana groused and grumbled next to her, this was the quickest route back to Quinn, and that goal was all that was left in her brain right now. Slowly but surely, Rachel forced her body out of bed and into the shower, which helped wake her up far better than any mental discipline her brain could offer. When she came out of the bathroom freshly washed and dressed, Shelby handed her the phone with a sober expression that Rachel immediately recognized; because it was an uncanny reflection of her own.

"What's wrong?" Rachel demanded anxiously.

"It's your daddy on the phone, sweetheart," Shelby said gently. "Quinn's having a rough night, they just need your help calming her down." Rachel's heart jumped straight into her throat as she grabbed the phone from the older woman's hand.

"Daddy, what's wrong? What happened?"

"Honey, I don't want you to panic," Michael said in his usual soothing baritone; but this time it didn't do much to calm Rachel's anxieties, as a dozen different nightmare scenarios ran through her head. "She's going to be fine, I promise you. But right now she's fighting the nurses and I need your help to calm her down. She picked up a lung infection last night, and she's agitated and disoriented from the fever. We had to use wrist restraints to stop her from pulling out her IV tubes and oxygen mask."

"Wrist restraints?" Rachel repeated blankly, in a quiet, shell-shocked voice. "Like a mental patient in the psych ward?" Behind her, Rachel felt Santana's gasp of horror, and a warm hand squeezing her shoulder.

"It's for her own safety, pumpkin. I'd like to be able to take them off, but we can't have her hurting herself. I was hoping you'd be able to suggest some music that might help keep her calm…we've got her iPod here, but there's just so much on it, I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Go into the podcast section, and put on _This American Life_," Rachel said quietly, pressing her free hand over her face to push back the pounding headache that was blossoming behind her eyes. "It doesn't matter what episode. She likes Ira Glass. His voice is soothing."

"It certainly is," Michael agreed quietly, sounding surprised at the choice—just like Rachel had been when she'd first discovered her girlfriend's secret love for NPR talk radio. "Thank you, baby girl. I promise we'll take off the wrist restraints as soon as we can."

"How high is her temp?" Rachel asked anxiously, remembering how feverish and discombobulated Quinn had gotten when they'd both had mono last year; the idea of her suffering through something like that again, on top of her injuries and recovering from surgery, felt like a sucker-punch straight to the gut.

"Right now it's a hundred and two," Michael admitted, "But once the antibiotics kick in she's gonna be feeling a lot better. This is a very common complication in these types of surgeries, sweetheart, her lung tissue was directly exposed to a lot of foreign contaminants at the scene, and it's been through significant trauma in a short period. We've got her on enough IV antibiotics to take down a small elephant. Once she calms down and stops fighting us, she'll be all right. I promise."

"Okay," Rachel nodded miserably, not bothering to wipe away the fresh tears that spilled down her cheeks. "Thanks, Daddy…you'll tell her I'm on my way, won't you? Tell her I'll be there soon?"

"I will, sweetheart. You just get home safe, and we'll see you in a few hours."

"'Kay," Rachel whispered miserably. Then she hung up, staring angrily at the cordless phone in her hand as her eyes filled up with fresh tears.

"What happened?" Santana asked quietly. Rachel stayed silent for another minute; then she let out a scream of pure, unrestrained fury, and threw the innocent phone against the wall, where it smashed to bits.

"God fucking dammit, why are you doing this to her?" The little starlet screamed up at the ceiling, furious tears spilling down her cheeks. "Hasn't she suffered enough? Don't you have anything better to do up there than torture innocent people for kicks?" Rachel threw herself back down on the futon and started beating the hell out of it, punching and kicking and screaming bloody murder.

"Hey, hey, shhh…" Shelby knelt down beside her on the futon and wrapped her longer arms around the trembling girl, holding her still from behind and rocking gently back and forth until Rachel stopped fighting. "It's okay honey, let it all out…but no more screaming, okay? It's five am, and I have neighbors who _will_ call the cops in a heartbeat."

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispered, her rage draining away into helpless sobs as she went limp in her mother's arms. "I just can't stand it…"

"I know, baby. It's okay," Shelby murmured, kissing the top of her head and wrapping her arms gently around the smaller girl's shoulders. Santana knelt quietly beside them and handed Rachel a tissue, her anxious expression reminding the distressed little diva that she wasn't the only one who was worried about Quinn.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Santana," Rachel sniffed, taking the tissue gratefully and wiping at her eyes. "I just started thinking that things were getting better…I wasn't ready to hear that Quinn has to suffer more, while we're still so far away. But she'll be okay…Daddy promised. It's just a lung infection. They couldn't get the drugs into her because she keeps pulling out her IV tubes. She's just out of it from the fever, she doesn't know what she's doing…"

"So let's get home and make her feel better, huh shortcake?" Santana nudged her shoulder, smiling grimly. Rachel sniffed and nodded.

"Yeah. Let's go."

…

Though she was still emotionally drained and physically exhausted, Rachel couldn't fall asleep on the 6am flight home from New York. Santana was equally disheveled, and the two of them ended up sharing a set of earbuds and watching dumb movies on Rachel's laptop to pass the time as the plane carried them home to Lima. Rachel noticed Santana's foot tapping impatiently almost throughout the entire flight; but she didn't say anything or ask her to stop. If anything, Rachel understood the agitation and the feeling of helplessness; at least Santana wasn't screaming and making a scene like Rachel had.

"I should've known something was wrong last night," Rachel said restlessly when the last movie ended. "She said she couldn't sleep…she said her chest hurt. I should've called Daddy then and made them check on her. I just didn't realize…"

"That she wasn't just talking about the broken ribs and the punctured lung and the stitches?" Santana finished, raising an eyebrow with a grim snort of commiseration. "How could you? Don't start shoveling more coal on your guilt pile, mija. It's not doing anyone any good. She's in the hospital, she's getting the best care available. You know it and I know it, so let's just know it together, okay?" Santana nudged Rachel's side with her elbow, and they shared a sad smile.

"Perhaps you're right…I just hate feeling so helpless. I wish there was something I could actively do to make her feel better."

"There is," Santana shrugged. "And we're doing it right now. Getting home to her. She's gonna start feeling better as soon as she sees your face, just watch." Santana winked, and Rachel grinned weakly. It really was good to have the acerbic Cheerio around some days.

The trip back to the hospital was a blur, and when she finally made it back to Quinn's hospital room, Rachel felt the anxious thrumming in her chest finally release, allowing her to feel the full brunt of the exhaustion she'd been holding at bay while she was trying to get home to Quinn. The blonde girl looked worse than she had just two days ago; she was back in the clear oxygen mask, though Rachel noted gratefully that the wrist restraints were nowhere in sight. Her ivory skin had gotten even paler, there were dark, bruise-like circles under her eyes, and the fine sheen of sweat coating her face and throat plainly showed she was fighting a high fever.

"Ira Glass really worked," Judy said gently from her seat by the bed, jolting Rachel out of her temporary haze as she stared anxiously at her girlfriend's limp body in the bed. "She was so confused and she didn't know where she was, or where you'd gone, no matter how many times I told her…but we put on that podcast show, just like you said, and it calmed her right down." Judy smiled gratefully, and Rachel nodded weakly.

"I'm glad it helped…I'm so sorry I wasn't here," she murmured, approaching the side of the bed and hesitantly reaching out a hand to stroke Quinn's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from her skin.

"It's all right, sweetheart, it wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault. She wanted you to go…and she was so happy after she saw your audition on the computer. She was smiling all night."

"Yeah," Rachel sniffed, stroking a few locks of messy blonde hair back behind her girlfriend's ear. At the light touch, Quinn's hazel eyes cracked open, blinking up at her with a hazy smile of recognition. "Oh…hey, sleepyhead, I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep, I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

"I dreamed the sky was full of shooting stars," Quinn murmured woozily, her voice faint and raspy behind the oxygen mask; but with a sleepy smile spreading across her pale face.

"That must have been beautiful," Rachel smiled weakly, stroking her girlfriend's warm cheek.

"I'll let you two have some alone time," Judy said gently, squeezing Rachel's shoulder as she rose from the hard plastic chair. "You just call my cell if you need anything, all right?"

"Thanks," Rachel nodded absently, taking the abandoned seat and pulling it up as close as possible to the edge of the bed. For a minute they just sat quietly together, with Rachel's hand on Quinn's forehead, both drawing silent comfort and reassurance from the simple physical contact.

"Rach?" Quinn murmured after a while, blinking woozily up at the dark-haired girl.

"Hmm, baby?"

"Is this real…? My head feels dizzy, I can't remember…am I really in the hospital?"

"Yeah, this is real," Rachel nodded, biting her lip to choke back the tears that welled up behind her eyes. She wanted to make Quinn feel _better_, not worse. "You're just confused because you've got a fever…but you're gonna feel better soon, I promise. You just need to rest and let the doctors take care of you, okay my love? Then we can get you out of this place and bring you home, won't that be good?"

"Yeah. I wanna go home," Quinn agreed sleepily, with a soft yawn.

"Go back to sleep, baby. Get some rest. I promise I'll be right here when you wake up," Rachel cooed, leaning down and pressing a few soft kisses to her girlfriend's feverish face.

"Will you…sleep with me? You look so tired…and I need you close…" Quinn sighed, blinking dazedly, obviously fighting sleep. Rachel bit her lip, considering. Of course, if it were just up to her, she'd climb into bed with Quinn in a heartbeat…but she wasn't sure the doctors and nurses would take kindly to her infiltrating an occupied hospital bed, no matter if it was at the patient's request. Then again, what was the worst thing they could do? Wake her up and tell her to get out of the bed? It didn't seem like too much of a risk, especially knowing that her daddy was on duty, and roaming the halls nearby. And if she was being honest with herself, she wanted to crawl into bed and sleep with her baby just as much as Quinn wanted her to.

"Sure I will, angel…that sounds really good," Rachel nodded, smiling weakly as she slipped off her ballet flats and climbed gently under the covers, curling up against Quinn's good side and gently rubbing the smooth skin over her girlfriend's bellybutton. "Can you feel that?"

"Uh-huh…feels good," Quinn sighed, as they both closed their eyes contentedly. Rachel nuzzled her face into Quinn's hair, not caring that it hadn't been washed in four days.

"Feels so good to hold you," Rachel yawned, her body relaxing into the familiar warmth it had been missing so sharply. "Love you…so much…"

"Love you too, starfish," Quinn murmured, resting her bandaged left hand on top of Rachel's to keep it there. Wrapped securely in each other's arms, weak with exhaustion, both girls fell asleep almost instantly. And when Judy came back from the cafeteria half an hour later, she resumed her post in the uncomfortable plastic chair, keeping vigil over both her girls. No one was going to disturb them as long as she was on watch.


	18. Grace & Hope

…..

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 18: Grace & Hope**

…...

"Good morning, ladies, right on schedule I see," smiled the day nurse as she swept into Quinn's copiously decorated and flower-filled hospital room, nodding at the blonde girl in the bed and the brunette sitting by her side, gently running through Quinn's regular morning leg exercises together.

"Good morning, Lupe," Rachel said brightly, readjusting her position slightly as she took Quinn's left leg in her hands—one at the ankle, one under the knee—and gently began moving it in an elliptical motion, stretching and extending the muscles in a steady rhythm.

"Morning," Quinn muttered distractedly from behind gritted teeth, panting slightly with the strain of the exercise on her battered body, keeping her eyes fixed on her leg as if willing it to move of its own accord. "Rach, stop, it's enough. I'm tired, my ribs hurt."

"We did twenty reps on the right side and only fifteen on the left. Just five more, okay baby? Otherwise you'll be lopsided." Rachel grinned, trying to make a joke; but Quinn groaned and closed her eyes, clenching her fists in the sheets.

"I said _stop,_" the blonde girl snapped, regretting her harsh tone when she opened her eyes, and saw her girlfriend flinch slightly.

"Sorry," Rachel murmured, her voice uncharacteristically meek as she gently lowered Quinn's leg back to the bed, and covered her up with the stiff white hospital sheets.

"No,_ I'm_ sorry," Quinn sighed, shaking her head dejectedly as she leaned back against the pillows, wincing and holding her ribs tenderly. "I know you're bending over backwards to help me...I'm just sick of this room, I'm sick of being in pain all day, and it's infuriating not being able to do anything for myself."

"Sounds like someone's almost ready to go home," the nurse remarked wisely, as she bustled around the room changing out Quinn's IV to a fresh bag, and checking all the monitors for any abnormalities.

"I'm not almost ready. I'm _ready,_" Quinn huffed, rubbing a hand through her messy blonde hair. "I'm even looking forward to school starting again tomorrow, because then at least I'll have homework to do."

"Oh, you're gonna have plenty to keep you busy when you get out of here, don't you worry," the nurse patted her shoulder sympathetically as she finished marking down all Quinn's vitals on her chart. "You're getting the lite version of physical therapy right now, but as soon as your lungs, fingers and ribcage are healed up, it's going to get serious. Then you'll _wish_ your friend here could do it all for you," she chuckled wisely, wheeling over a large cart of hospital breakfasts, and depositing one onto Quinn's bedside tray.

"Anything would be better than staring at these same four walls all day," Quinn shrugged glumly, picking up a raspberry danish from the breakfast tray and licking a dollop of filling from the center.

"Quinn, don't eat that," Rachel exclaimed indignantly, eyeing the contents of the tray with undisguised distaste. "The whole reason I've been bringing you high-protein superfood smoothies every morning is so you _wouldn't_ have to eat this processed hospital crap. No offense," she added sheepishly to the nurse, who just laughed.

"Speak your mind, sugar, I don't make it. I'm just the waitress," Lupe chuckled, making one last round of the room to double-check that all was in order. "All right Miss Quinn, you have a nice morning now. I'll see you at 11 for your sponge bath."

"Can't wait," Quinn muttered darkly, her pale cheeks blushing bright red as she stared down at her danish grimly. Once the nurse had gone, and the two girls were alone again, she looked up at Rachel with a thoroughly miserable pout firmly in place, sticking out her bottom lip and staring up from under her long eyelashes. "Rach, I can't bathe myself, I can't leave this room by myself, I can't even go to the _bathroom_ by myself. Please do not fuck with my raspberry danish, okay? It's shaping up to be the high point of my day."

"Aww, baby...oh, well all right, go ahead and enjoy your toxic sugar treat, I suppose it won't kill you. But this puppy dog pity routine is _not_ going to work forever, you know," Rachel sighed, failing to hide the indulgent smirk that crossed her face as Quinn smiled impishly and took a bite of the icing-covered pastry. "Proper nutrition is crucial to your recovery, especially once you start rehab and physical therapy for real. Your muscles are going to need all the help they can get. It's like training for the _Olympics_."

"Yes dear," Quinn muttered, smiling absently as she took another bite of her danish. Rachel rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help returning her girlfriend's impish grin. It was just such a relief to see her joking like this, sitting up and feeding herself, even expressing opinions about what she wanted to eat. It was a huge leap, already, from how sick and weak she'd been for the last several days, too woozy and discombobulated to express an opinion about _anything_ other than Rachel staying close enough to cuddle her regularly.

"And I'm glad to hear you say you're looking forward to school starting again, because I've already spoken to Principal Figgins and Ms. Pillsbury, and they've agreed to help do whatever's necessary to make sure you graduate on time," Rachel nodded brusquely. "I'm going to bring you your homework every day, and Ms. Pillsbury will come to your house in the evenings to administer tests and quizzes as needed. But frankly, I don't want us to get ahead of ourselves with a homeschooling plan, because it's my intention to see you back in school within the next few weeks."

"Oh really?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, smiling at Rachel's determined expression. "Well if that's your intention, I imagine it's probably going to happen."

"You imagine right," Rachel agreed, beaming as she watched the characteristic glint of steely determination returning to her girlfriend's hazel eyes. They smiled shyly at each other for a moment; then Quinn's gaze turned thoughtful, and she reached out a hand, which Rachel automatically met with her own, lacing their fingers together on top of the blankets.

"Listen, Rach...I know the next few months are going to be pretty rough, for both of us, and...I just want to say thank you right now, for everything you've done and everything you're gonna do. I know there will be times when I'll be bitchy and depressed and ungrateful, and I need you to know that I'm gonna do my best not to take any of that out on you...but, if I do, don't think for a second it's really about you. You've been the most amazing, sweet, wonderful, and totally fierce girlfriend anyone could ever hope for thought all this. So...thank you." Quinn squeezed Rachel's hand, and the little starlet's eyes immediately filled up with tears.

"Oh, Quinn...I'd do absolutely _anything_ for you, and you don't have to thank me. If our positions had been reversed, you'd do exactly the same for me. Don't think for a second you owe me anything, because you don't. Just having you here with me is all the thanks I need." Rachel sniffed and hastily wiped a tear from her cheek on the back of her hand. Quinn smiled and playfully tapped her lips, and Rachel beamed, leaning over the bed to press a soft, probing kiss to her girlfriend's raspberry-tinged mouth.

"Mmm, don't stop," Quinn whined softly when Rachel pulled away, invoking her best cute puppy pout and cocking her head to one side as she stuck out her lower lip. "I may be paralyzed, but I'm not _dead_. I want real sexy time."

"Quinn! Not here. You can't be serious," Rachel squeaked, her dark eyes going wide with anxiety as she glanced automatically to the small window in Quinn's hospital door, noting the large number of doctors, nurses, patients and visitors streaming past in plain view out in the hallway. "I'm thrilled you're feeling well enough to be thinking about sex, but _surely_ you don't want to be caught in a compromising position when a doctor or nurse comes in...or one of our parents! That door doesn't even have a lock."

"I know…I just miss it," Quinn sighed, scowling at the door that had no lock. "I miss your hands on me...I miss orgasms," she admitted shyly. Rachel bit her lip, an anxious look flitting across her dark eyes.

"Can you...I mean, do you even know if..."

"I can still feel between my legs, Rach," Quinn said quietly, blushing with the admission, but smiling shyly. "I'd be _way_ more depressed right now if I couldn't, believe me."

"Oh, thank _God_," Rachel whimpered, leaning in and pressing her lips back to Quinn's with renewed tenderness, flooded with relief that one of her worst fears had been put to rest. It may be a teeny bit shallow, and she wouldn't have admitted it to anyone; but the possibility that she might never be able to make her girlfriend come again had been haunting her ever since the accident. She just wanted Quinn to feel good again...and, it seemed, Quinn was in complete agreement with that assessment. Rachel sucked Quinn's lower lip gently into her mouth, nibbling and teasing it between her teeth; and Quinn dug her hand into Rachel's soft hair, pulling her closer, until Rachel relented and let her weight fall very gently into Quinn's right side, from her hip to her shoulder. The blonde girl let out a soft moan, and the little starlet immediately tensed and pulled back.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No! That was a happy sound," Quinn assured her, slipping her good hand up the back of Rachel's shirt and trailing her nails lightly over her girlfriend's hip to her lower back. Rachel whimpered softly, and leaned into Quinn again as if pulled by a magnetic force; though still with unusual gentleness. They curled into each other, trading gentle kisses and light, teasing touches for several long and blissful minutes, neither in any hurry to rush past the simple tactile pleasures and connection they'd gone without since the awful day two weeks ago that turned both their lives upside down.

"Ahem."

Rachel's head jerked around so fast, she lost her balance and fell over the edge of the bed, landing in a heap on the floor with an undignified shriek.

"Ow, ow...dammit..."

"Rach! Are you okay?" Quinn called after her, biting her lip anxiously as she tried to peer over the edge of the bed at her whimpering girlfriend. It was infuriating not to be able to reach her when she was less than three feet away, and Quinn felt a hard lump of shame and humiliation bubble up in the pit of her stomach.

"Yeah, m'okay," Rachel panted, rubbing her knees as she climbed awkwardly to her feet, smiling sheepishly up at Mrs. Fabray. "Umm...good morning, Judy."

"Sorry, Mom," Quinn grumbled, her cheeks flushing pink with a combination of embarrassment and frustration at being interrupted.

"It's all right, sweetie, I'm glad you're feeling well enough for...well, you know," Judy blushed and waved a hand absently in front of her face, even shyer than her daughter when it came to discussing sex. "Just make sure you're extra, extra gentle with her, won't you Rachel?"

_"Mom!"_ Quinn shrieked, closing her eyes as her face flushed an even darker shade of pink. "We are _not _having this conversation with you!"

"No, Quinn, it's all right," Rachel said earnestly, composing herself as she sat back down on the edge of the bed, the only one of the three of them who didn't appear to find the subject at all embarrassing. "Your mom is just making sure you're safe and cared for, and that's entirely appropriate. And I can assure you, Judy...um, Mrs. Fabray...your concerns are completely justified, and I'll be as gentle as a baby kitten for as long as it takes her injuries to heal."

"Kill me now," Quinn muttered, covering her eyes with her good hand. Rachel gave her unofficial mother-in-law a sheepish smile.

"You know, Rachel...I've heard Quinn call your fathers _dad_ before."

"Oh...well, yes, after she lived with us, it was sort of...I mean, we didn't _mean_ to..." Rachel stuttered awkwardly, looking back and forth between Quinn and her mother, both of whom were blushing. Again.

"You could call me _mom_ if you wanted," Judy blurted hastily, wringing her hands absentmindedly. "Maybe just sometimes...just to get used to it, that is. If it wouldn't make you too uncomfortable." Quinn and Rachel both stared at her in stunned silence for a moment. Then Rachel smiled shyly.

"That would be lovely," the dark-haired girl nodded, raising an eyebrow in shocked incredulity as she smoothed down her skirt and hastily wiped a smudge of her lip gloss from Quinn's cheek.

"Well, good, then that's settled. Quinnie, since you're up and you've had your morning exercises, I suppose you're ready for some visitors?"

"Sure, great, let's all have a tea party," Quinn sighed sarcastically; but she smiled weakly as she leaned her head back against the pillows and rolled her eyes. "Who is it, more church ladies? Or teachers? _Please_ don't say Coach Sylvester, you _can't_ make me deal with her without a fresh shot of morphine."

"No, sweetheart, it's not anyone from school or church. Remember I told you I couldn't reach your sister because she was in China on a parish mission trip?"

"Yeah," Quinn replied cautiously, feeling Rachel tense beside her. The one time that Rachel and Quinn's sister had met, back when Quinn was pregnant with Beth, Grace had tried to literally _drag_ her little sister out of the Berrys' house by force to "save her" from the sin of homosexuality.

"Well, I finally reached her last night...and she's got a surprise for us. Is it all right if she comes in to visit?"

"Yeah, of course," Quinn nodded slowly, looking automatically to Rachel to make sure it was okay with her too. Rachel just shrugged—what was she going to do, tell Quinn she couldn't see her own sister? That didn't seem like the best way to show her gratitude to her unofficial mother-in-law for how boldly she'd just welcomed her into the family. And, besides, it was only proper that Quinn's sister should come and visit her in the hospital, no matter _what_ differences they'd had in the past. Family was family, after all. Still, when the older Fabray stepped into the room, Rachel's hand immediately grabbed Quinn's, mutely staking out her territory so there would be absolutely no confusion.

"Grace...oh my God," Quinn gasped, as her eyes went from her sister, to the little bundle swaddled in her arms.

"Hi, ladybug," Grace smiled bravely, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she took in her little sister's injuries for the first time; from the faded, yellowing bruises on her face, to the IV drip taped into the crook of her arm, to the mass of bandages still encasing her left hand. "There's someone here who wants to meet you, Quinnie."

Tentatively, the older Fabray approached the bed, and sat down across from Rachel on Quinn's injured left side. "This is Hope Elizabeth Fabray-Henderson." The baby in Grace's arms looked about six months old, with golden-caramel skin and dark, serious eyes that blinked calmly up at the new faces gaping down at her.

"Gah," she cooed, reaching out a chubby little fist and cramming it into her mouth contentedly.

"She's...she's yours? I mean, you adopted her?" Quinn asked quietly, her eyes filling up with tears to match her sister's. Grace nodded, beaming.

"We didn't want to tell anyone before, just in case something went wrong and the adoption didn't go through...Chinese bureaucracy is a nightmare, you wouldn't believe what Mark and I went through, even with the parish mission behind us. And, well, after your...after Beth, I didn't want to be insensitive. We haven't really spoken much in the last couple of years. But, Quinnie, if I'd known what happened...I swear I would've been here."

"Shh, I know, it's okay," Quinn shook her head, her eyes still locked on the gurgling baby in her sister's arms. "She's so beautiful, Grace..."

"Isn't she?" Grace beamed, her expression as soft and glowing as any new mother as she bounced her newly adopted baby lightly in her arms. "Say hi to Auntie Quinn and Auntie Rachel, Hopey..." Rachel's eyes went wide, and she gaped at the nervous smile on the older Fabray's face as she pronounced them both her daughter's aunts.

"Oh, Gracie...thank you," Quinn murmured, reaching out and resting her injured hand on her sister's shoulder, the closest she could come to a hug without hurting her ribs.

"This doesn't...I'm not saying I approve of your relationship," Grace said quietly, wiping a few tears hastily form her cheek. "But Daddy was right, Quinn...we're _all_ sinners in this world, and Jesus loves us anyway. We're a family, and Daddy would've wanted us to stick together...especially now that you've got so many burdens to bear. I'm here for you, baby bug...and so is Hopey, right baby?" Grace tickled the baby's round tummy, making her squeal with delight. Quinn smiled softly at the giggling baby who was now her niece, still in a state of shock at the unexpected statement of support from her stubbornly judgmental big sister.

"So what do you think, Grandma?" Grace smiled hopefully at her mom, a flash of teenage anxiety peeking from behind her blue eyes at the possibility that Mrs. Fabray might be angry with her for keeping something so huge a secret.

"I think I'll forgive you for keeping my granddaughter a secret if you'll bring her to Quinnie's welcome home party next week, so I can show her off to all our friends properly."

"Oh, of course, that would be wonderful," Grace beamed, sighing with relief that she wasn't in trouble with her mom. "So you'll be getting out of the hospital next week, Quinn? That's so great. When can you go back to school?"

"As soon as I can sit up in a wheelchair for seven consecutive hours without passing out or throwing up from the pain," Quinn muttered darkly, looking down at her hands in embarrassment as the light, cheerful attitude was immediately sucked out of the room. She felt Rachel's hand squeeze her arm in silent commiseration.

"We're working with a wonderful physical therapist here in the hospital, and when she gets home we'll start going to the outpatient clinic every day," Mrs. Fabray explained gently, determined to keep up a cheerful attitude for Quinn's sake. "It will take at least two months for her injuries to heal enough to start working on walking again, but we've got plenty to do in the meantime, as you can imagine. Core strengthening is the most important piece for right now. We're up to an hour a day of sitting up in the wheelchair, isn't that right Quinnie?"

"No, that's not right," Quinn grumbled mulishly. "_We _are not up to an hour a day of wheelchair time._ We_ are not working on core strengthening. It's _me._ _I'm_ the one who can't even sit in a goddam chair without feeling like I'm getting mauled by a rabid tiger." The uncomfortable silence that Judy had tried to steer them around descended again in an instant. Quinn didn't even have to look up to know that her mother, sister and girlfriend were now all exchanging the same sorrowful expressions, and she sighed regretfully, closing her eyes and dropping her head back against the pillows.

"I'm sorry," she sighed miserably. "I'm sorry, I'm trying not to be a bitch…it's just so hard to hurt all the time…"

"It's all right, sweetheart," Judy said gently, pulling her chair closer to the bed and stroking her daughter's pale cheek, tilting her chin up and forcing her to make eye contact, so she could see her mother's smile of love and understanding. "We know you're in pain…you don't have to pretend everything's all right when it's not. That's not how our family operates anymore."

"Thanks, Mom," Quinn sniffed, smiling weakly. Then she whimpered, and cupped her bandaged left hand to her mouth to cover a raspy, rattling cough that drained all the color from her face, immediately curling onto her good side as a white-hot stab of pain shot through her ribcage. The infection was cleared from her lungs now, but her traumatized respiratory system was still irritated and struggling to heal; and she wasn't quite over the lingering cough that snuck up and pounded her breathless at random times throughout the day, cruelly twisting sharp needles of pain through her chest and broken ribs. Even with her eyes squeezed shut and her face buried in the pillow, she could feel the flurry of activity around her as they all tried to help at once; but she couldn't respond. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.

"Deep breaths, Quinnie, it's going to pass..." Mrs. Fabray leaned across her daughter's hospital bed to press the little red button on her morphine pump, while Grace just looked on in mute horror, her hand resting protectively on the top of baby Hope's head.

"I know," Quinn whispered through gritted teeth, a fine sheet of sweat breaking out across her pale face as she panted through the wave of pain, lacing her fingers tightly with Rachel's, who stroked her hair gently and hummed a little tune to distract her. It only took a few moments for the rush of painkillers to hit her bloodstream; then she leaned back against the pillows with a soft sigh of relief and exhaustion. "I'm okay," she murmured, giving her anxious sister a strained half-smile. "I'm okay now."

"Oh, baby bug...I wish I could take all your pain away," Grace murmured, shaking her head as her eyes filled with fresh tears.

"Thanks, Gracie. I love you too," Quinn smiled woozily as the morphine worked its way through her system, relaxing her tense muscles as well as her brain. "I can't believe you're a mom..."

"Yeah, it's pretty incredible," the older Fabray agreed with a dazed smile of her own. "I'd ask if you want to hold her, but I'm afraid she might hurt you..."

"Maybe Rachel would like to hold her," Judy suggested gently, eyeing the little starlet encouragingly.

"I would love to," Rachel nodded shyly, looking up nervously at the older Fabray sister, who was eyeing her uncomfortably with the same calculating expression Quinn had shown her a thousand times before, whenever she was uncertain or anxious about something.

"You can't catch the gay, Grace," Quinn muttered groggily, slightly punch-drunk from her painkillers and too exhausted and spent to filter her speech for politeness. "Rachel's awesome with babies, Beth loves her…just wait, she's totally gonna be the fun aunt."

"Of course…Rachel, would you like to hold her?" Grace asked awkwardly, holding out the drooling little bundle across the bed.

"Thank you," Rachel beamed, scooping up the baby and cuddling her against her chest. "Hi sweet girl, what do you think of your new home in Ohio? It's pretty good here, huh?" The baby gurgled placidly, grabbing a fistful of Rachel's long hair and trying to cram it in her mouth.

"She likes you," Grace noted with obvious surprise in her voice. "So far she's been really tense around new people, but the caseworker at the adoption agency said that was normal, and it would fade once she starts trusting her new environment."

"Babies are excellent judges of character," Judy nodded sagely, smiling at the happy, relaxed expression on her new granddaughter's tiny face as she was cuddled in Rachel's arms. "They sense people's moods and energy, and they don't care a bit for politeness when it comes to expressing their feelings about it."

"That means you just passed the mother-in-law/grandchild test, babycakes," Quinn smiled sleepily, rubbing her eyes as she beamed up at the picture-perfect image of her girlfriend holding _their_ new baby niece on her hip.

"Oh, Quinnie, there aren't any tests, not for this one," Judy huffed, rolling her eyes affectionately at the knowing grin the two girls were shooting each other. "We're way past that now, I'd like to think." Rachel smiled shyly, but was spared the need for a response when baby Hope started to cry and fuss in her arms.

"She's just tired, it's past her nap time," Grace explained, immediately standing to take her wailing baby back from the little starlet's arms. "I can take her…" But Rachel had already stood and began rocking the baby gently in her arms, walking in a little circle around the room as she quietly sang _Swing Low, Sweet Chariot._ Almost at once, Hope's wails quieted; and when Rachel looked up, she realized that she'd just put both Quinn and the baby to sleep at the same time.

"Like I said, no tests," Judy murmured with a motherly little smile.


	19. For Medicinal Purposes

Hola, Faberrians! I hope you are enjoying the lovely first day of spring. (Unless you're reading this from the southern hemisphere…then I guess today is your first day of fall! Anybody in this group? Just curious where my readers are, haha). Either way, it's a time of change, and our girls are definitely ready for it. Enjoy! :)

—WBB

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 19: For Medicinal Purposes**

….

When Quinn finally returned home after two long weeks in the hospital, she made Judy promise at least a dozen times to keep her welcome home party "smallish," with no more than a dozen adults (a few of Judy's church friends and the pastor, her boyfriend Tom, and Rachel's dads, along with Grace, her husband Mark and their new baby), mixing awkwardly with the glee kids. Of course, half the McKinley student body was clamoring for a chance to celebrate Quinn's release from the hospital and return to their ranks; but the injured girl truly wasn't physically ready for a big party, any more than she was ready to return to school. All she really wanted was to be surrounded by close friends and family, who would tolerate her potential moodiness and the ever-present possibility that she might throw up in front of them if the pain got bad.

Rachel had been harping on for over a week about the potential benefits of acupuncture, going on and on about the testimonials she'd read from people suffering from chronic pain of various sorts, that was reduced or eradicated completely within weeks or months of treatment, as well as the possibility that it might help stimulate nerve response and help her walk again faster. Of course, Rachel herself had never actually had acupuncture done on her, so Quinn felt it unfair that her girlfriend insist _she_ get poked with more needles, after already having been a pincushion for two full weeks in the hospital.

All these concerns went squarely out the window, however, when Mrs. Fabray's new wheelchair-accessible van (she'd leased it from a local dealer suggested by Artie's parents) pulled up in front of the house, giving Quinn her first glimpse of home in weeks. Her attention was immediately drawn to the newly installed handicapped ramp leading up to the front porch. It was a shock, somehow, to see it there so plainly, in broad daylight; proclaiming to the entire neighborhood that someone who couldn't walk lived here. As soon as the van door slid open and the fresh spring air hit her face, the blonde girl went deathly pale and began taking slow, deep breaths.

"Honey, what's wrong? Are you in pain?" Rachel asked anxiously, unbuckling herself from the seat beside her girlfriend's wheelchair and kneeling at her feet.

"Everybody's in there waiting, aren't they?" Quinn asked weakly, biting her lip. "I don't know if I'm ready for this, Rach—for a party, for being all hostess-y, for everyone seeing me like this. I mean, if it was just you and the glee club, it would be okay…they've all seen me laid out in the hospital already when I was at my worst, I don't have to worry about them freaking out. But my mom's friends are going to be all pious and concerned, and I don't have the energy to pretend to be okay, and what if I puke on the pastor?"

"Shh, don't worry about any of that stuff, angel," Rachel hummed soothingly, squeezing her girlfriend's trembling hand in her lap. "No one is expecting you to be hostess-y, I promise. It's a community, not a performance—everyone in there loves you, and they just want a chance to show it. You don't have to stay any longer than you want to—isn't that right, Judy?"

"Of course," Mrs. Fabray nodded with a strained smile as she came around the side of the van and joined Rachel by Quinn's side. "You just let me know as soon as you start to feel tired, baby, and we'll get you settled in your room for some rest. I can handle all the hostess duties just fine, and if I need any help I'll have your sister. We don't want you worrying about anything but getting better right now, all right Quinnie?"

"'Kay…thanks, Mom," Quinn smiled wanly, feeling the familiar lump of hot shame nagging her stomach at the idea of being treated like a guest in her own home, not being able to take care of herself in even the most basic ways, the expressions on people's faces when they saw her wheelchair for the first time. She knew it was inevitable, at least for a few months; but she hadn't mentally prepared herself for how much more _real _it would all feel when she left the hospital. She couldn't even use a regular wheelchair, as her left hand was still heavily bandaged; she had to have one of the special electric kind, usually only used by quadriplegics and victims of degenerative conditions who couldn't use their arms. And now, to top it all off, she was forced to confront the newly installed handicapped ramp leading up to her own front porch. She wanted to smash it into a million pieces. _It's not forever,_ she reminded herself silently. _I'm __**going**__ to walk again, and everything will go back to normal. It's not forever. It's just for now._

"All right then," Judy smiled, a little too chipper to be entirely believable. "Let's go inside and get you settled."

Quinn chatted politely with her party guests for as long as she could comfortably stand being in her new wheelchair—about an hour, at which point both her mom and Rachel's dads noticed the color draining from her face, and the cold sweat breaking out across her forehead. Before any of them could get to her, though, Rachel was there at her girlfriend's side, asking her if she'd like to retire to her room and lie down for a while. Quinn smiled gratefully, the first genuine smile she'd been able to muster all day.

"Mom, would it be okay if my friends came with me to hang out in my room?" Quinn asked hopefully, as her mom and Rachel's dads approached the small group of teenagers flocked around the blonde girl's wheelchair. "My ribs are really starting to hurt, I need to lie down for a while. But I don't want everyone to go home yet."

"Of course sweetheart, go be with your friends. Do you want me to come help you into bed?"

"No, I think Puck or Santana can handle it," Quinn coughed awkwardly, trying not to show her embarrassment at the question of who would be in charge of picking her up from her chair and putting her in bed, like a newborn infant.

"All right, Quinnie, go relax and have fun. Rachel, you'll let me know if you kids need anything back there?"

"Mm-hmm," Rachel nodded happily, relieved to be getting her girlfriend out of the grownup party—which, as far as the little starlet was concerned, served no other purpose but to show the world that she was still alive—and into a genuinely relaxing social situation with their friends, that would hopefully serve to start returning some sense of normalcy to the blonde girl's life.

…

Quinn's bedroom had been temporarily moved to the spacious downstairs guest suite while she was in the hospital, so stairs wouldn't be an issue for the time being. Most of the glee kids had in fact already seen Quinn's new room, even before she had, because they'd all helped Mrs. Fabray move Quinn's things down there in anticipation of her homecoming. They'd all worked hard to make the new room look as much like Quinn's old room as possible; and, aside from the electric hospital bed (which she could raise and lower with a little remote control, since she still couldn't sit up on her own) it really was virtually identical to her old bedroom upstairs.

There were the same posters—Passion Pit live at the Warfield, Florence and the Machine (the haunting, disembodied "Lungs" album graphic made them all a little uncomfortable now, as it served to remind them of the severity of the blonde girl's injuries; but Quinn loved it, like a badge of honor). There was the Georgia O'Keefe portrait, and the Columbia University pennant flag above the bed; the same cheerleading trophies, the National Merit Award, the framed finger painting sent by baby Beth's dads. The same corkboard covered with photos, mostly of Quinn and Rachel; but scattered with group candids of all the glee kids, a few of Beth, and even some family pictures from old vacations. The only significant addition to the new room was a large l-shaped couch along the wall and a flat screen TV, making it easier and more comfortable to have group hang-out sessions in here rather than in the living room, if Quinn needed to be able to lie down for a while. Like right now.

"Easy does it, Baby Mama, Puckasaurus coming in for a soft landing," Puck teased gently, scooping Quinn from her wheelchair with exquisite gentleness, and laying her down in the elevated hospital bed, its back raised to a 45 degree angle so she could see her friends and participate in the conversation.

"Thanks," the blonde girl whispered, obviously in pain as she closed her eyes and began taking slow, shallow breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. Rachel climbed into bed beside her and dropped a few soft kisses on her pale face, rubbing a hand gently over her girlfriend's flat stomach.

"Are you okay, honey?" Kurt asked sympathetically, knowing there wasn't a lot any of them could do if she wasn't.

"Yeah…just need a minute…moving is still hard. Will somebody turn on the stereo? Music helps." Tina and Mercedes ran to turn on Quinn's sound system and select some appropriate background music; but Puck just wiggled his eyebrows and produced a large Tupperware from his backpack.

"Oh, Puckasaurus knows how to ease the pain, you'd _best_ believe. I was waiting 'till we could ditch the adults to bring these bad boys out." Grinning like an idiot, Puck pulled the lid off the Tupperware to display a large number of fresh-baked, extremely fragrant brownies.

"Did you bring pot brownies into my house, dipshit?" Quinn asked; but she was grinning as she shook her head at the smell wafting from the plastic container.

"Hell yes, and you're welcome! It's _medicinal_, you're totally entitled to this now. And there's more where this came from—Mr. Reyerson is practically _giving_ it away to me since I said it was for you. If you like 'em, I'll make you a new batch every week till you're back on your feet, Baby Mama."

"Just because I can't kick your ass right now doesn't mean you can start calling me that again, doofus," Quinn warned, still smiling wryly as she took a brownie and examined it, sniffing and considering. "How strong are these?"

"Let's just say, they'll help you forget your woes and relax your bad self for a few hours," Puck shrugged modestly. Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"Well I'm not gonna get high by myself while the rest of you sit here and watch," she shrugged, taking a bite of the brownie and grinning devilishly as Puck hooted and started handing out the space cakes to the rest of the group. Even Rachel had one, making them all promise not to give her any grief for breaking her vegan code on this one special occasion. They sat around chatting idly and listening to music, while Kurt and Brittany painted Quinn's toenails; then watched the season finale of Pretty Little Liars, before the effect of the brownies began to sink in.

"Whoaaah…Houston, we have lift-off," Quinn announced woozily, stretching her back and letting her head loll to the side on her pillow with a languid smile.

"Let's make a music video!" Kurt announced out of nowhere, jumping to his feet as Blaine and Rachel both giggled at his sudden jolt of enthusiasm.

"I don't think I can move for a while," Rachel admitted, smiling sleepily as cuddled up more snugly against her girlfriend's side, burrowing her face into Quinn's soft blonde hair. "Everything feels so heavy…like somebody turned up the gravity. Do you feel that too, Quinnie?"

"No, not heavy…I feel floaty," Quinn sighed, yawning and rubbing her eyes as she turned to smile at her woozy-eyed girlfriend. "The pain's all gone…I feel amazing. Like a real person."

"Yay," Rachel murmured, clapping her hands quietly on top of the blankets. "I'd cheer a lot louder if I could actually pick up my arms right now."

"It's okay," Quinn snickered, running her fingers absently through Rachel's sleek hair. "I'm happy just being here with you, and our friends…feels good to just relax…I can't remember the last time I felt relaxed since the accident."

"It's so fucked up that this happened to you," Rachel sniffed, her voice suddenly thick with emotion as she propped her head up in one hand, staring down incredulously at her girlfriend's peaceful smile, while her own eyes filled abruptly with tears. "It shouldn't have happened…not to you. I would trade away my whole future, Broadway and everything, if I could go back and make it not happen."

"No, Rach, don't say that," Quinn shook her head, smiling softly at her girlfriend's loving expression, and wiping a few tears from her face. "Everything happens for a reason…you know that. I think there's lessons we have to learn, lessons for both of us…you need to learn that you can't control everything. The whole fate of the world is _not_ on your shoulders, sweet girl."

"And what lesson do _you_ need to learn?" Rachel asked, far less argumentative and more accepting than she would've been in her normal, sober state.

"I need to learn…that it's okay to let other people help me," Quinn nodded sagely, with a yawn. "That's a hard thing for me, I don't like feeling helpless. Well, except with you," she shrugged to her girlfriend. "But this is way bigger than you and me can handle by ourselves, I _have_ to let other people in too. It'll happen…just, not all at once. A little bit at a time…like spring." The blonde girl yawned and scrunched up her nose sleepily, like a kitten; and Rachel giggled and kissed her gently.

"We _want_ to help you, Q," Brittany said earnestly, beaming brightly at her friend from her place at the foot of the bed. "We love you, and besides, that's what friends are for. Santi would've never been able to handle coming out if you hadn't been there to help her. You always take care of us…and now it's _our_ turn to take care of _you_."

"Thanks, Britt," Quinn smiled dreamily, her hand still playing absently with Rachel's hair. "I know I believe you right now; but after these brownies wear off, you may have to remind me a few times."

"We will, don't worry," Brittany agreed cheerfully. "Actually, San and me had a talk last week, and we decided that if you have to defer college so you have time to get better, we'll take a year off, too, and stay here to keep you company."

"Wow, really?" Quinn blinked incredulously at her best friends, who were both beaming at her giddily. "That's…like…like you really love me."

"We _really_ love you, Q," Santana agreed, gently picking up one of Quinn's limp feet and kissing each of her newly painted toes. "We'll get you back on your feet even if I have to personally bitchslap every physical therapist in the state of Ohio."

"I love you too, San," the blonde girl replied woozily, with a soft yawn.

"Do you want us all to go, hon? You look sleepy," Blaine asked gently from the couch.

"No…don't go. I like hearing your voices…just gonna close my eyes for a minute." Quinn let her heavy eyes fall shut, and Rachel snuggled up securely against her side, gently rubbing her stomach, as the rest of the group chatted quietly and watched TV on the large, comfortable couch. Judy came back and checked on them a few times; and each time, she was met with the same serene smile on her daughter's sleeping face. It really was going to be all right.


	20. I Believe I Can Fly

Hey Faberrians,

Sorry for the delay on this chap—I tried to keep up the pace of the postings during the hiatus, but sometimes real life does get in the way. Also, I'd just like to give a general disclaimer that we're now at the point where I really have no idea how realistic (or not) my portrayal of Quinn's recovery is; I tried to do some research online, but I had a really hard time finding specifics about a realistic timeline for recovery from an incomplete spinal injury. If anyone has had any real-life experience with this, please feel free to message me! I'd love to get more details. Otherwise, we'll just have to agree that, hey, it's Glee, not like everything that happens has to be one hundred percent realistic!

A/N 2: There is some naked sexy time in this chap, but nothing too graphic—if it were a movie, I think it would still be rated PG-13. But just in case anyone's squeamish about sex, I thought I should let you know! Enjoy ;)

—WBB

….

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 20: I Believe I Can Fly**

…

"Hi Judy," Rachel smiled brightly at Mrs. Fabray as she entered the spacious house, leaving her shoes and coat by the front door. "Is Quinn up?"

"I think so. I went to check on her about 20 minutes ago, after her hand therapist left, and she was a little woozy. See if you can get her to eat something—I made up a plate." Judy offered the dark-haired girl a tray holding a plate of neatly cut fruit slices, a container of hummus, and a pile of crackers. "You should help yourself too, sweetie. You're looking awfully thin these days, running around ragged looking after Quinnie. I know it's difficult, but you need to look after yourself, too." In an unusually bold display of motherly affection, Judy took Rachel's chin in her hand and tilted her face up, into the light, examining the dark shadows under the little starlet's eyes, and kissed the top of her head.

"I will," Rachel agreed, smiling wanly at the older Fabray's show of concern. "Thanks. I'll bring this stuff back to her…we'll just be doing homework, I'll let you know if we need anything."

"That's fine, dear. Don't work too hard, now." Judy patted Rachel's cheek with a sad little smile, and went back to the kitchen computer, where she was researching different spinal therapy options covered by their insurance policy. Rachel smiled wistfully back, and picked up the little snack tray as she trailed through the house to Quinn's new bedroom, in the far back of the first floor.

"Knock knock," she called out, so Quinn would know it was her as she pushed the door open. "You decent?"

"Depends on your frame of reference," Quinn grumbled dryly, but she smiled when she saw her girlfriend's face. "But, yeah, not like I'm in here having a naked sex party or anything."

"Do you want to?" Rachel asked, a slightly mischievous grin flitting across her face as she set her tray down on the bedside table, and sat on the edge of her girlfriend's raised bed. "I know we haven't…not since the accident…but I think it would be okay now. I mean, I think it would be safe, as long as we're gentle and don't try anything fancy."

"Oh my God, I _so_ want to," Quinn groaned, biting her lip as she locked her hazel eyes on her girlfriend's dark brown. "But…are you sure _you_ still do? I don't feel very sexy like this, there's so much I can't do…I'm afraid it won't be any good for you. And I don't want a pity fuck."

"Baby, don't say that. Don't even think it," Rachel shook her head, scooting closer to Quinn on the bed and stroking her cheek, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together. "Touching you is _always_ good for me…and if you can't reciprocate for a while, that's okay. It's not like I haven't been getting the job done on my own for the past few weeks anyway." Rachel grinned sheepishly, cocking her head to the side as Quinn blushed and smiled bashfully at her.

"You have?"

"Of course. Haven't you?"

"I tried, but…it's hard for me," Quinn admitted shyly, gnawing on her bottom lip. "I never really touched myself before, and now…well, these aren't the ideal circumstances for figuring out what works for me. I try to think of what _you_ do that I really like, but…it's hard with just one hand. And my tongue doesn't reach that far."

"I see," Rachel snickered, and Quinn immediately flared up in furious embarrassment.

"Don't laugh at me, you jerk! I already feel like the world's biggest lame-o, you don't need to rub it in."

"I'm not laughing at you," Rachel shook her head, trailing her fingertips over Quinn's face, tracing the outline of her lips. "You're just so sweet and sexy, and I really miss touching you, and the only reason I even waited this long to bring it up was because I wanted to make sure it wouldn't hurt you. If I'd known you couldn't get yourself off properly without me, I would've done something about it sooner, I promise. Forgive me?" The dark-haired girl picked up her girlfriend's good hand, and kissed her fingertips one by one. Quinn beamed shyly, her pale face flushing bright pink.

"I forgive you, Rach. Now lock the door and help me get my clothes off."

It was the gentlest Rachel had ever been with Quinn's body; she took her time undressing the nervous blonde girl, both out of concern for her injuries, and because she wanted to savor this moment of reconnection as fully and deeply as possible without exploding. It was the first time Rachel had seen Quinn naked since the accident; three and a half long weeks, a record for their relationship, and the little starlet was so relieved to see how much the bruises marring her girlfriend's ivory skin had faded, she started to cry.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered over and over, worshipping every inch of the blonde girl's skin with her lips and the feather-light touch of her fingertips. Quinn's body was so starved for her touch, the little starlet barely had to lift a finger to make her come. Soon the blonde girl was boldly instructing her girlfriend in exactly how to touch her, how to move her leg or angle her wrist, layers of shyness falling rapidly away as physical need overtook everything else. Quinn had never been particularly vocal during sex before; usually she just whimpered softly or bit a pillow (or Rachel) to keep from making too much noise, and she never talked much. But now, with her mobility so limited, words were the most obvious path to getting what she wanted…and after all the pain and suffering of the past few weeks, the joy her body felt at finally getting its needs met wholly overpowered any lingering sense of modesty the blonde girl was holding onto.

By the time exhaustion made them call it quits, they were both limp and smiling like idiots, and Rachel pulled the blankets back up over their naked bodies as the air cooled their sweaty skin. "Rach?" Quinn murmured languidly, her fingers trailing absently up and down her girlfriend's smooth spine beside her.

"Mmhmm," Rachel sighed, her voice as lazy and blissful as Quinn's as she rolled onto her side and smiled dopily, her own fingers trailing absent circles around Quinn's bellybutton.

"Can you grab that snack tray now? I'm starving." Rachel happily complied, realizing once the food was in front of her face that she was actually pretty hungry, too. They took turns feeding each other bites of fruit and crackers with hummus; then without warning, Quinn gasped and arched her back sharply against the bed, sending the tray clattering to the floor as Rachel yelped and jumped back from Quinn's side, terrified she'd accidentally done something to cause her girlfriend pain.

"What happened? Are you hurting?" Rachel asked urgently, her heart thudding anxiously in her chest as she took in the expression of shock flitting across the blonde girl's face.

"Take the sheet off me," Quinn said quietly, her voice soft but intense. Rachel immediately did so, half convinced she was going to see blood spurting from some new injury. But Quinn's legs looked fine, as whole and unblemished as ever, right down to her wiggling toes.

Her toes…_Quinn was moving her toes_. All of them.

"Oh my God, Quinn!" Rachel laughed out loud, then burst into tears, grabbing her girlfriend's face with both hands and kissing her hard on the mouth.

"I can feel my feet, they're all tingly," Quinn laughed, tears pouring down her face as she broke away from Rachel's kisses, panting and breathless and beaming. "I can feel my feet…" Before Rachel could respond, there was a loud rattling sound at Quinn's bedroom door, followed by urgent knocking and Mrs. Fabray's anxious voice.

"Quinnie, why is the door locked? Are you all right? I heard a crash!"

"I'm okay Mom, I'm fine," Quinn laughed, as Rachel giggled deliriously and dropped her head onto the blonde girl's naked shoulder. "Sorry, we spilled some food, that's all. We'll be out in a few minutes."

"But why is the door locked? What if you needed help?" Mrs. Fabray called impatiently through the door, still worried and on edge despite Quinn's reassurance.

"Because we're having private naked time, Mom. Deal with it," Quinn said boldly, even grinning a little at the thought of her mom's expression at her declaration. It was wildly unlike Quinn to speak so freely about her sex life, let alone to her mom; but the combination of post-orgasmic euphoria, and the giddiness of getting the first tingles of movement and sensation back in her legs, was obviously loosening the filters between her brain and her mouth.

"I'm right here to help her, Judy, everything's fine," Rachel promised, automatically pulling the discarded sheet back over their naked bodies even though the door was still firmly locked between them and Quinn's mom.

"Oh, well, all right…that's…that's good, then. I'm sorry I disturbed you. I just wanted to make sure you were both all right. Dinner's almost ready."

"Cool, we'll be out in a minute," Quinn called absently, her smile still plastered to her face as she wiggled her toes under the sheet.

…

Everyone was thrilled at the news of Quinn's leap forward in the recovery process; but over the next few days, Quinn herself was finding that the hard work was really just beginning. Now that she was starting to regain feeling in her legs, her physical therapy was fast-tracked and became much more intense. Every day that week, she went to the outpatient spinal clinic at OSU, to be strapped into an elaborate harness that looked like it was made for rock climbing; but instead of being attached to a belay, the hooks were connected to a heavy metal bar above her head, as she walked slowly and painfully on a treadmill. Of course, she wasn't _really_ walking yet—two physician's aids knelt on either side of the treadmill, picking up her feet and moving them along as the treadmill whirred. It was exhausting and painful, both for her legs and the broken ribs strapped under the harness, and she threw up from the pain at least once in every session.

By the end of that first week, Quinn was so worn out that she could barely sit up in her wheelchair for an hour at a time, which had been her baseline since leaving the hospital almost a month ago. It was discouraging, even though she knew intellectually that she was making progress; because until she could get through a full day in her wheelchair, she couldn't go back to school. She was lonely and depressed, refusing all visitors except Rachel for several days in a row, finally allowing herself the indulgence of self-pity she'd fought so hard to resist in the early days and weeks of her recovery process. It was all just theoretical then; she knew it was going to get harder, but she didn't feel the exhaustion and the hopelessness until her new routine of daily therapy was actually happening.

"Go away," she grumbled weakly from her bed, when a knock on the door roused her from absentminded daydreams of dancing and cheerleading.

"Not happening," Santana announced as she threw the door open, and half the glee club poured into her bedroom.

"What the fuck, Santana," Quinn whined, throwing a rubber stress ball halfheartedly across the room at her best friend.

"Don't what the fuck me, chica. You know what day it is. We're not going to Regionals without you."

"You know I can't go, San. I can't stay in my wheelchair that long. But thanks for bringing the whole gang along so I can disappoint them all at once, that's a real time-saver." Quinn's voice was tired and bitingly sarcastic, nothing like the sweet, gentle-tempered girl they all knew and loved.

"No worries, baby mama, Puckzilla has got you covered. I stole my uncle's hammock for you—it's one of those free-standing ones that has a frame, so you can bring it inside. It's all packed up in the back of the bus. You just need to keep your cute butt in the chair for the bus ride, which is only half an hour, then you can watch the show in mad style. Your mom said it was cool. What do you say, tough stuff?" Puck grinned his usual devilish smirk, and Quinn couldn't keep herself from smiling at the familiar teasing glint in his eye.

"You stole a hammock for me?"

"And a pillow. It has Velcro on the back so it stays on the hammock even if you move around. You'll be the most chillaxed person in the whole auditorium." Quinn glanced around at her friends, all of them beaming hopefully at her. The fact that they hadn't forgotten her in their Regionals preparations, that they really wanted her there with them enough to show up and think through every possible contingency, warmed her from the inside out. She hadn't left the house to go anywhere other than doctor's appointments or physical therapy in almost a month.

"Okay, load me up. Let's go to Regionals!"

…

The ride to Regionals was a little rougher than Quinn expected; but Artie distracted her with stories of all the ways he'd tricked adults into giving him free stuff with his wheelchair as a kid, and Rachel kept leaning over the seat to check on her every few minutes (they couldn't sit next to each other due to the large amount of space her wheelchair took up in the special handicapable bus, along with Artie's). And once she got over her initial embarrassment at being set up in a cheesy 1970's patio hammock, right in the front row of the auditorium, she had to admit it was a pretty cushy deal. Being out with people like this, not for any medical reason, but just as a regular part of her normal life, felt like coming back to the world after weeks underwater.

"There's someone special in the audience tonight, who was supposed to be up here with us," Santana announced to the crowd as the New Directions took the stage, looking straight at Quinn, who immediately blushed bright red, even though she couldn't help smiling. Santana gave her a little wink. "But last month we almost lost her, and it's gonna be a while before she can get back up here with us. Tonight's theme is _Inspiration_, and right now we'd like to dedicate all of ours to our friend, Quinn Fabray. We're getting you back on your feet, girl, no matter what it takes." The crowd went wild with cheers, all of them well aware of the tragic crash that had been in all the papers and made the blonde girl something of an unintended local celebrity.

"You'll notice a basket with a red cross at the end of every aisle," Kurt continued as Santana bowed and took a step back. "We're collecting donations tonight for the Lima Community Blood Bank, which just lost twenty-five percent of its funding in recent state budget cuts. Please, give generously—without its continued existence, the next medical emergency victim in our town may not be as lucky as our friend Quinn. This show's for you, baby." He winked at her too, and the smiling blonde girl felt hot tears filling her eyes and streaming down her cheeks as her friends filed into place on the stage and began to sing.

….

I came to win, to fight, to conquer, to thrive  
>I came to win, to survive, to prosper, to rise…<p>

_I used to think that I could not go on…_

I wish today it will rain all day  
>Maybe that will kinda make the pain go away<p>

_And life was nothing but an awful song…_

They got their guns out aiming at me  
>But I become Neo when they aiming at me<p>

Me, me, me against them  
>Me against enemies, me against friends<br>Somehow they both seem to become one  
>A sea full of sharks and they all smell blood<br>They start coming and I start rising  
>Must be surprising, I'm just surmising<p>

I win, thrive, soar, higher, higher, higher  
>More fire!<p>

I came to win, to fight, to conquer, to thrive  
>I came to win, to survive, to prosper, to rise…<p>

I believe I can fly  
>I believe I can touch the sky<br>I believe I can fly  
>I believe I can touch the sky<p>

_See I was on the verge of breakin' down_  
><em>Sometimes silence can seem so loud<em>…

I am not a word, I am not a line  
>I am not a girl that can ever be defined<p>

I hear the criticism loud and clear  
>That is how I know that the time is near<br>See we become alive in a time of fear  
>And I ain't got no motherfickle time to spare<br>Cry my eyes out for days upon days  
>Such a heavy burden placed upon me<p>

I came to win, to fight, to conquer, to thrive  
>I came to win, to survive, to prosper, to rise<p>

Then I can be it  
>If I just believe it, there's nothing to it<p>

I believe I can fly  
>I believe I can touch the sky<br>I think about it  
>Every night and day<br>Spread my wings and fly away

I believe I can soar  
>I see me runnin' through that open door<br>I believe I can fly.


	21. Up, Up, Up!

…..

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 21: Up, Up, Up!**

…...

Around a month after the accident, Quinn's physical therapy was progressing rapidly, as were the healing scars on her ribcage and hand; and her doctor approved the physical therapist's recommendation to move her daily therapy sessions from the treadmill to the pool. From the very first day, Quinn loved being in the water; it was so much easier to move, so much lighter and freer. Plus, without the harness pressing on her ribcage, the level of pain she experienced in her exercises went down astronomically. Floating on her back in the cool water, with the guidance of her physical therapist's sturdy hands, she could not only kick her feet and begin to rotate her ankles and knees, but also work on her core strengthening, which was the key to getting her strong enough to go back to school.

The blonde girl worked tirelessly, every day, with the same steely determination that had made her captain of the Cheerios again after giving birth to Beth almost two years ago. Soon she was swimming laps on her back without any assistance at all, pulling herself backwards through the water with her arms while Josh, her physical therapist, cheered her on by imitating an Olympic commentator with a thick Russian accent. Rachel made a few appreciative comments about her girlfriend's toned muscles in the weeks that followed, and even Quinn had to admit it was getting easier to deal with everyday wheelchair hassles as her upper body strength improved. It wasn't as if her arm muscles looked _that_ different; she'd always been strong, after years of gymnastics and grueling workouts with the Cheerios. But Quinn could feel the change—in her abs, biceps, triceps, and even her shoulders, and it gave her a little thrill to see the wanton look of lust in Rachel's eyes when the little starlet cooed, "Show me your guns, baby!"

At eight weeks, she was given a special protective brace for her left hand (it really just looked like a fingerless glove), and switched from the bulky, 300-pound electric wheelchair to a regular manual one, so she could push herself; and after a week of "wheelchair boot camp," with her physical therapist's encouragement, she was finally allowed to go back to school. Rachel was beside herself with excitement, and the night before Quinn's first day back, the blended Berry-Fabray family (Rachel and her dads, plus Quinn, her mom, and Tom, who would probably become her stepdad soon enough) all went out to Breadsticks for a celebratory dinner.

Though she'd been bored and lonely and desperate to get back to her life throughout her two month homeschooling hiatus, when the day finally arrived Quinn was a lot more nervous than she wanted to admit. Going out to dinner at Breadsticks had reminded her how shocked most people still were at seeing her in a wheelchair; her close friends and family had had two months to get used to it, but for the rest of the school, tomorrow would be their first glimpse of their wheelchair-bound former prom queen. The idea of facing all the shocked looks, the pity, and the inevitable whispered gossip behind her back (or, in this case, behind her wheelchair) was extremely unappealing.

She knew her girlfriend and the rest of their glee posse would have her back, of course; but that wouldn't stop the rest of the school from swarming her like vultures, and the idea of leaning on her friends for even more comfort and protection was equally unappealing. Quinn had always felt extremely uncomfortable depending on other people for anything (with the notable exception of Rachel, who barely even counted as "other people" anymore anyway); and she hated the idea of dragging her friends down or keeping them from enjoying their last semester of high school to the fullest.

"Quinnie, are you almost ready? I made waffles!" Mrs. Fabray's cheerful knocking on her bedroom door stirred the anxious blonde girl out of her reverie, and with a sigh she put a few final touches on her light makeup, and wheeled herself down the hall to the kitchen.

"I'm never gonna make it out of this chair if you keep fattening me up like this, Mom," she joked weakly as she pulled her wheelchair up to the kitchen table and set the break, as Judy put a plate of multigrain waffles, scrambled eggs and sliced fruit in front of her.

"Nonsense, there's not an ounce of fat anywhere on you, sweetheart. I've seen how hard you're working in physical therapy, and I'm not about to let you work yourself down to skin and bones. Now eat up, Rachel will be here in a few minutes." Quinn sighed and chewed slowly on a strawberry, poking her food around her plate.

"I don't feel so good, Mom; I'm kind of nauseous. Maybe it's too soon to go back to school. Will you call Figgins and tell him I need one more week?" Judy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, not a week, just one more day. Please Mom." Quinn bit her lip and looked up hopefully.

"I know you're nervous, Quinnie. That's perfectly natural. But putting things off is only going to make that feeling worse."

_"Mom,"_ Quinn whined petulantly, but Mrs. Fabray just tutted and raised her eyebrow even higher; and Quinn fell silent.

"I know I haven't always been much of a role model for you, sweetheart; but you've never needed me to show you how to be a strong, independent young woman. You got there all by yourself. You've worked so hard to get back to your life, honey, and it's right there waiting for you. You're so brave, my sweet girl...you're going to be all right. Just be brave and strong a little longer, and you'll see how much better things will be. All right, sweetheart?"

"Okay," Quinn sniffed, smiling at her mother's adoring expression even as her eyes filled up with tears. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Quinnie," Judy smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead. "Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

Quinn did her best to eat, though the nervous, queasy feeling in her stomach wouldn't go away completely. She was glad she'd have her girlfriend at her side when she made her grand re-entrance to the halls of McKinley; the plan was for Rachel to drive to the Fabrays', leave her car in their driveway, and drive Quinn and herself to school in Mrs. Fabray's new wheelchair-accessible minivan. Today was just a trial run; but if it went smoothly, this would be their new everyday routine, allowing Mrs. Fabray to go back to work part-time while Quinn was at school.

"Good morning!" Rachel called as she bounced excitedly into the Fabrays' bright kitchen, beaming like she'd just swallowed a ball of sunshine. "Are we ready to face the Paparazzi of McKinley high?" Seeing how happy her girlfriend was at her return to school made Quinn smile, despite her residual nervousness, and she automatically tilted her head up to meet Rachel's warm lips in an enthusiastic good-morning kiss.

"We're ready," she agreed. "Let's go get 'em, Rach."

…...

As soon as Quinn rolled through the front doors of McKinley, she felt the horrified and curious stares of dozens of eyes on her, though she did her best to ignore it all, and pretend she didn't even notice. They didn't see any of the glee kids in the halls, which made Quinn a little sad and anxious; but half the football team streamed past her on the way to her locker, and in typical meathead fashion, they didn't tiptoe around her in quiet horror the way the rest of the school did, but cheered and hooted and high-fived her as they passed, proclaiming that it would take a_ lot_ more than a Mac truck to keep their head cheerleader down. It was a little silly and childish, but Quinn couldn't help smiling at the jocks' enthusiastic support. Rachel seemed to appreciate the football jocks' wholehearted welcome-back to her girlfriend, too, if the overexcited grin on her face was any indication; but when they got to glee rehearsal a minute later, Quinn realized her little starlet's smile had nothing to do with the football team, after all.

"Surprise!" Brittany squealed happily when Quinn wheeled into the choir room, to be greeted by the cheers and hoots of the entire glee club, who threw streamers and confetti at her as she crossed the threshold into the room, with Rachel giggling delightedly right behind her.

"Oh, you guys, you didn't have to do all this," the blonde girl smiled shyly, looking around at the huge WELCOME BACK QUINN banner hanging at the front of the room, along with the only-slightly-less-enormous cake covered with lavish swirls of rainbow icing, flanked by the beaming smiles of all her best friends.

"Girl, please. The sun is shining, Nationals are coming, and we finally got you back in action," Mercedes shook her head, crossing the room to where Quinn was inspecting the giant welcome-back cake, and squeezing her shoulder with a beaming smile. "I think this is the first day since your accident that none of us has cried. You gotta let us get our celebration on, before college acceptance letters start coming and we have something new to be depressed about."

"We're just so happy to have you back, Quinn," Mr. Schue said with a smile, as Rachel stuck her finger into a gob of bright pink icing at the corner of the cake, and offered it to her girlfriend with an impish smile. Quinn blushed, but couldn't resist licking the sugary icing off her girlfriend's outstretched finger. It was butterscotch—her favorite.

"And what did _you_ have to do with all this, little miss I-promise-not-to-make-a-fuss?"

"Hey, this is _nothing_ compared to what I originally wanted to do," Rachel smirked, gently climbing into her girlfriend's lap, looping an arm around the back of her neck and kissing her lightly on the mouth. "But the disco roller rink is closed for renovations, and we _do_ still have Nationals to prepare for, so I toned it down quite a bit, thank you very much. You'll have to accept the undying love and devotion of the glee club in the form of cake and streamers for today." The entire group nodded enthusiastically, all of them beaming. Even Puck looked a little misty, though he tried to hide it.

"Thanks, you guys, I love you all so much," Quinn shook her head, blushing slightly from all the attention. "It's been really hard work getting here, and it's gonna be a lot _more_ hard work before I'm back on my feet…but I promise, I won't give up. Just like none of _you_ have ever given up on _me_." Everyone cheered and flocked around their newly returned friend, all jockeying to hug her at once, until Mr. Schue started handing out cake to calm them down and get them into their seats.

"All right, settle down you guys. I know today's a special occasion, but we still have work to do," Mr. Schue said in his normal down-to-business voice as he wrote the words PEP RALLY on the white board. "The spring pep rally is next week, and Principal Figgins has asked us to do a number. I know it's short notice, but it'll be a great chance for us to tune up for Nationals. Does anyone have any new song suggestions, anything you've been working on outside of class?"

"Actually…I have something," Quinn said tentatively, raising her hand. Mr. Schue nodded eagerly, gesturing for her to take the floor. Smiling shyly, Quinn wheeled forward and turned to face the room. "I've been listening to a ton of music during my physical therapy…it helps keep me focused, and my trainer Josh says it's good for muscle memory. He has all these special playlists for me, and there's this one song I really like…Josh says it's actually kind of a disability-positive anthem, from this group called The Givers. The song is called Up, Up, Up—anybody heard of it?"

"Oh hell yeah!" Artie nodded enthusiastically. "I've been wanting to do that one forever."

"I've heard it too," Tina agreed. "It would be perfect for the pep rally, it's really fresh and upbeat."

"Quinn, Artie, do you want to give us a run-through?" Mr. Schue asked, gesturing for them both to join him at the front of the class. Artie grinned and rolled forward to join Quinn, sharing a high five as they both began to sing.

_Oh we up up up for the glow show  
>yeah we're down down here on the ground<br>Yeah we up up up up above love  
>Yeah we up up up in the clouds<br>Yeah we up, yeah we up, yeah we up…!_

The rest of the day passed in a blur, as Quinn tried to keep up with her friends and her schoolwork without asking for special help or consideration; but just getting from class to class was exhausting. By the time 3 o'clock rolled around, the blonde girl felt like she'd just made it to the base camp of Mt. Totally-gonna-kick-your-ass, with another day's exhausting journey just around the corner; and then another, and another. It was a little dispiriting, thinking about how much work was still ahead of her, so Quinn tried not to think about it as the bell rang, and she wheeled herself along beside her girlfriend as they made their way through the throng of students out to the parking lot, back to their new handi-capable ride. At least now they never had to worry about getting a good parking spot again, the blonde girl thought wryly to herself as Rachel helped her strap her wheelchair in.

"So blondie, where d'you wanna go today in your new ride?" the little starlet asked coyly, as she slipped into the driver's seat and raised her eyebrow playfully at her girlfriend in the rearview mirror.

"Oh, gee, I dunno. The great barrier reef?" Quinn chuckled, shaking her head as she glanced out the window at the students streaming past, relieved to be out of the spotlight now that her first day back at school was officially over.

"I was thinking of something a little more attainable…like, joyride to Grand Lake?"

"Oh, you're serious?" Quinn raised an eyebrow in mild surprise at her girlfriend's impulsive suggestion. "Rach, we can't. I have physical therapy and you have ballet. Plus I'm still behind on my schoolwork…now might not be a great time to suddenly develop an irresponsible streak."

"I disagree—in fact, I think it's the _best_ time," Rachel smirked, twisting around in her seat to flash her thousand-watt Rachel Berry smile at her tired, but smiling girlfriend. "You just got through your first day back at school after two months of nonstop hard work and physical endurance. We are alone in the car for the first time since before the accident, and I for one am not quite ready to give that up yet. We can skip one afternoon of obligations, it won't kill us. We're second semester seniors—it's _expected_. C'mon angelcake, don't you want to feel the sunshine and the wind in your hair? I promise to have you home in time for dinner…" Rachel's eyes were so wide and eager, and glinting with such genuine happiness and excitement, Quinn couldn't find it in her heart to argue.

"All right, madam driver—to the lake!"

"Yay! Off we go," Rachel giggled, plugging her iPod into the car's sound system, and singing loudly along to The Givers as they headed for the rural state highway. Quinn had to admit, as she rolled down the window and took in a deep breath of spring air, that Rachel was right; she _did_ need this. The feeling of being alone with her girlfriend—not alone in a _room_, but _actually_ alone together, out of the house, surrounded by trees and fresh air, and grooving to some good music as the world rushed past their windows, felt like bliss. When they arrived at the lake, Rachel followed one of the many marked paths to a more secluded area, far from the public beach side of the grounds, to a spot where a clear, flat dirt path lead from the parking area directly through the woods, and down to the sand. Quinn raised a suspicious eyebrow when she saw Rachel take a large, folded picnic blanket and a wicker basket out of the back of the minivan.

"This wasn't one hundred percent impulsive, was it, my sneaky little basket-packer?"

"Not one hundred percent, no," Rachel admitted, grinning sheepishly as she walked along beside her girlfriend's wheelchair. "I'd say about eighty percent impulse, twenty percent sand-avoidance-aforethought."

"Plus snacks," Quinn nodded to the wicker basket with a teasing smirk.

"Well, naturally. What good is a romantic lakeside sunset without bubbly cider and a nice assortment of finger foods?"

"Just another day of the earth rotating away from the sun," Quinn shrugged, beaming shyly as Rachel piled the blanket and the basket carefully into her lap, and grasped the handlebars at the back of her wheelchair to push her down the slightly uneven terrain that lead to the sandy beach. It was totally secluded; there weren't many people out enjoying the lake this early in the season anyway, and those who were tended to stay closer to the park-maintained area around the near side of the lake, with barbecue pits and benches and public bathrooms. Out here, on the other hand, it was just Quinn, Rachel, and the lake.

"It feels so amazing to be alone out here," Quinn sighed, taking in a deep breath of fresh air and letting her head fall lazily against the back of her chair.

"I know, it really does," Rachel agreed happily, taking the blanket from Quinn's lap and shaking it out into a large, neat square on the sand. "Ready to stretch out?"

"Oh…I don't know about that, Rachel. I'm bigger than you, and there's no one else around to help us if you drop me on my ass."

"Quinn Cordelia Fabray, I am not going to drop you," Rachel said commandingly, putting her hands on her slim hips. "You're not the only one who's been working out, you know. I've been lifting free weights with Britt and Santana every day after school for the past two months."

"You have?" Quinn raised an eyebrow in skeptical disbelief.

"Well, I had a lot of emotions to work through after your accident, and Santana suggested it as a positive outlet," Rachel shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal, though Quinn could see her proud smile peeking through. "Plus it made sense for me to channel my energy into something that could be helpful to you as well. I may not be _quite_ as ripped as you, my little Olympic contender, but I can certainly help you in and out of your chair." They smiled at each other, and Quinn took a deep breath, letting it out with a soft sigh of determination.

"Promise you won't drop me."

"I promise," Rachel nodded, her voice quiet and serious as she stroked her girlfriend's ivory cheek with her thumb.

"Okay." Quinn smiled, bit her lip nervously, and held out her arms.

They spent the rest of the evening lounging on the blanket, watching the sun set over the lake and feeding each other chocolate and strawberries, with Quinn leaning back lazily between Rachel's legs, her head resting against her girlfriend's chest. And when Rachel started to get tired, they gently stretched out on their sides on the soft blanket, kissing and cuddling until the moon was rising over the fading twilight. By the time they finally left, they both had the same perfect idea for senior ditch day—a day at the lake, with sun, sand, boating and swimming (and, if Rachel could find the right rental place, waterskiing—she just _knew_ that some special adaptive equipment for the disabled must be available somewhere). They both made the same suggestion the next day at the unofficial senior ditch day meeting, where it was unanimously agreed (Quinn suspected they'd have agreed to anything she suggested right now; but she wasn't about to abuse that power, not with her final high school memories on the line).

Without letting Quinn know anything about it, Rachel managed to get her physical therapist's contact info from Mrs. Fabray, and she had a long discussion with the affable young man about waterskiing, and whether it was advisable for Quinn's current therapeutic trajectory. He agreed completely that it was a great idea, especially as Quinn had already responded so well to working in the water; and he suggested a local rental place by the lake that stocked adaptive equipment, including a water "sit-ski" for paraplegics, built with stabilizing wings so it was virtually impossible to tip over. Rachel excitedly made the arrangements, barely able to contain her glee so as not to spoil the surprise for her girlfriend. She just knew this was going to be the best senior ditch day ever.


	22. Nobody Loves Me Like You Do

Hey Faberrians! Two quick notes:

I hope nobody thinks I'm hating on Artie just 'cuz I'm leaving him out of my senior ditch day—it's only because he's not a senior! He was just riding on Quinn's coattails when he offered to take her our for a special wheelchair ditch day on the show.

This may be my last update for a couple of weeks, because I'm going on a roadtrip! I really have no idea whether there will be any writing time, but I'll try. I just don't want you guys to worry that I'm not coming back, because I definitely am. It might just be a little bit longer than usual before the next update. Enjoy! :)

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 22: Nobody Loves Me Like You Do**

…...

"Puckzilla punch, ladies?" Puck stood over the semi-circle of beach chairs in his goofy Hawaiian trunks and aviator shades, holding a pitcher of something red and frosty.

"Is there booze in there?" Brittany asked, peeking over the top of her own sunglasses (which were bright pink and studded with rhinestones) at the suspicious concoction.

"It's our senior ditch day. What do you think, Madam President?" Puck grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

"I think I want some," Brittany smiled, holding out her cup. Puck happily began pouring, and each of the girls held out their cups in turn. When he got to Rachel, she pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Half a cup, Noah. I know we're not driving, but I still want to have my wits about me."

"Yeah, because the beach can be such a dangerous place," Santana snorted sarcastically, chuckling as Puck obediently filled Rachel's cup halfway, and then followed suit for Quinn, who requested the same.

"Well we're not going to be on the beach _all_ day," Rachel shrugged mysteriously. "There might be an activity coming that would be worth staying sober for..."

"Oh, yeah, I totally forgot about that," Brittany nodded eagerly. "But I'm still drinking this. It won't matter if I fall, we'll just be in the water anyway."

"Forgot about what?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously at her girlfriend's poorly suppressed grin of delight. "What is she talking about, Rach?"

"You'll see," Rachel cooed delightedly, leaning over the arm of her beach chair and giving her girlfriend a soft, teasing kiss on the lips. It was wonderful to be out like this, lying in the sun at the lake, Quinn's wheelchair discarded at the edge of the sand (since it couldn't roll onto the beach anyway) in favor of lounging in beach chairs, with all their friends flocked around. For once, they could all forget about the blonde girl's condition for a few hours; today she was just another girl lying on the beach with her friends. If any heads turned as they passed on their way to the water, it wasn't to take pity on her or stare at her wheelchair; it was to offer a flirtatious grin or a wolf-whistle, just like before the accident. Quinn normally got shy and awkward about this type of attention from strangers, but today she didn't even seem to notice—her attention was absorbed by the feeling of the sand between her toes, which she wiggled with gusto, making all her friends cheer when they saw how much progress she was making with her physical therapy.

"Keep walking, Muscles McGee," Rachel growled at a particularly appreciative young man who strode past them, leering suggestively at Quinn as he passed.

"Down, girl, I'm not going anywhere," Quinn giggled, smiling despite herself at her girlfriend's jealous attention. It had been so long since she'd been out in public without her wheelchair, she'd almost forgotten what it was like to be noticed for anything other than her difference; and though it felt good to know she still had her powers of allure, it felt even _better_ to see her sweet little starlet acting like her old self, unapologetically territorial over her girl for the whole world to see.

"Just keeping an eye out," Rachel shrugged, leaning back in her chair and taking an experimental sip from her cup. "Good Lord, that's strong. I think it's gonna take me all day just to drink half a cup."

"I like it," Quinn said with a smirk, taking a long swallow and sticking the cup down into the sand for safekeeping. "Can we go swimming now? It's getting hot out, and I wanna show everybody how good my kicks are now."

"Sure, baby, I'll come swimming with you," Rachel agreed happily, mellow and relaxed from the combination of sun, surf, and whatever was in Puck's punch mix.

"Carry me, Santi?" Quinn asked flirtatiously, with a little wink. Santana snorted and shared an amused glance with Brittany, who nodded and stood up, too.

"Okay mijas, let's all get wet."

"Thank _God_ Puck was out of earshot when you said that, or we'd never hear the end of it," Kurt chuckled, standing and brushing off his bathing trunks to join them. Santana scooped Quinn up easily, and the blonde girl wrapped her arms around her friend's neck, giving her an impulsive kiss on the cheek. Santana wiggled her eyebrows, and with a devilish smirk, she took off running towards the water. Quinn shrieked in alarm, but soon she was laughing, her arms tight around Santana's neck as Rachel, Brittany, Kurt and Mercedes all trailed after them, launching themselves into the water.

"Cold! Cold, cold, cold!" Mercedes squealed as she emerged from the clear blue lake water, gasping from the aftershock.

"Don't be a baby, it feels good," Quinn sighed, floating on her back when Santana released her, leaning her head back into the water so her shoulder-length blonde hair fanned out around her head. "It's refreshing..." Kicking off with her feet, she began a lazy back stroke through the water, swimming around her friends in circles.

"It's just like in my dream last night," Brittany beamed, watching Quinn's steady progress through the water. "I dreamed you were a mermaid, Quinn. _And _you could fly and breathe fire."

After a few minutes, the boys joined them in the water; and when they'd been swimming and splashing for about half an hour, the speedboat Rachel had rented arrived at the dock, amid cheers of delight from the swimmers.

"What's that for? Did you rent us a boat ride?" Quinn asked, shaking her wet hair back from her face as she floated in place, treading water.

"Even better," Rachel beamed with pride. "We're all going water skiing!" Everyone cheered; except for Quinn, who stared up at the boat with a wistful expression of disappointment. "I said we're _all_ going," Rachel repeated, raising a smug eyebrow at her girlfriend, who frowned at her in confusion.

"Okay, but how..."

"You'll see. C'mon baby, follow me and we'll pull you up." The whole group swam up to the side of the speedboat, climbing the ladder one by one and then pulling Quinn up easily, where she was deposited in one of the padded seats along the side next to her girlfriend, who beamed at her and bounced excitedly.

"Welcome aboard Big Jim's water adventure cruise," the burly captain said when they'd all settled down, nodding his weathered old captain's hat at them as he took the helm. "There's only three rules on this here boat—one, when you're out on the skis you wear a life preserver, and I don't give a red baboon's butt how good a swimmer you are, that goes for everybody. Two, when it ain't your turn, you keep your butts in those seats there. An' three, y'all have a dang good time out on the water."

Everyone cheered, except for Quinn, who was now looking at Rachel in total bewilderment. It was obvious that the little starlet was up to _something_; she'd never be so insensitive as to parade a fun activity in front of her girlfriend that the injured girl couldn't do, let alone on their senior ditch day. But Quinn couldn't see any way she'd be able to participate in this.

As if sensing her confusion, Captain Jim nodded to her with a grin. "You're Quinn Fabray, are ya?"

"Yes," Quinn raised an eyebrow in confusion. Everyone else was grinning, like they knew something she didn't.

"Well we've got a special piece of equipment here just for you, little lady. Take a look and tell me what you think of this." With a smirk, he flipped open a large storage locker set into the floor, and pulled out what looked like the most tricked-out surfboard Quinn had ever seen. It had a molded plastic seat in the center, with a belt to keep its occupant fully secured; and wide, angled support wings jutting out on either side. Clearly, it would take a lot of work to make this thing flip over in the water. Quinn stared wide-eyed, her jaw hanging open, for several long seconds.

"It's...for me?" She asked, stunned.

"For you," Rachel nodded, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend's sun-warmed shoulders and kissing her cheek. "What do you think?" Quinn shook her head incredulously, biting her lip as another possible complication hit her.

"Rach, this is so amazing, but...you know I can't hold on, not with my left hand..." Though Quinn's prognosis with her injured hand had been excellent, it was very slow going in the therapy sessions—she could move her fingers, yes, but her range of motion was limited, and she certainly couldn't hold on to a slippery handlebar at high velocity.

"Don't worry about that, there's a special attachment that hooks right onto the front of the board," Rachel explained happily, pleased to see the disbelief melting away from her girlfriend's sun-kissed face, replaced by pure, giddy excitement. "There was no way we were doing this without being one hundred percent sure that you could do it, too."

"So what do you think, Q?" Santana asked, her legs draped playfully across Brittany's lap on the other side of the boat.

"I think my girlfriend rocks," Quinn laughed gleefully, grabbing Rachel's face with both hands and kissing her soundly. Everyone hooted and clapped, and Captain Jim revved the engine and took off for the open water.

They stayed in the boat for two hours, giving each person three or four turns on the water before hunger and exhaustion forced them back to the beach, where they waved a cheerful goodbye to Captain Jim, promising to recommend his services to anyone they knew looking for summer fun at the lake. Quinn was nearly delirious with happiness, the sun and the speed and the spray on her face still tingling through her veins when they disembarked on the dock, and Puck carried her back to her beach chair. Rachel and Mercedes unpacked the huge cooler that had come with them from the bus, and they cooked hamburgers and veggie burgers over one of the public barbecue pits. Finally, when the sun was dipping below the horizon and the warm spring breeze had disappeared from the chilly evening air, they piled back into the school bus and headed back to Lima.

"Did you have a good time today, sunshine?" Rachel asked, curled up in Quinn's lap on the bus ride home, her long legs hanging over the side of the wheelchair and dangling into the isle.

"The best time," Quinn shook her head, beaming, as a huge yawn overtook her. "It was the best time, Rach...thank you so much, for making it so special and perfect."

"Your smile is all the thanks I need," Rachel beamed shyly, her fingers playing absently with her girlfriend's damp hair as Quinn slipped a hand under the little starlet's t-shirt, her fingers grazing lightly over Rachel's perfect little bellybutton. The effect was immediate, sending a pleasurable flush through the dark haired girl's face. "But I wouldn't say no to a kiss, either..." Giggling softly, Quinn leaned in and captured Rachel's lips in a gentle, loving kiss, that didn't stop until the bus pulled into the McKinley parking lot.

…...

Rachel was still floating on a cloud of ditch-day euphoria when she arrived at Quinn's house the next morning; but Mrs. Fabray greeted her at the door with a slightly less enthusiastic expression, causing the little starlet's happy bubble to burst in an instant.

"What's the matter?" Rachel demanded anxiously, allowing Mrs. Fabray to usher her into the foyer and drop her bag absently by the coat rack.

"It's nothing for you to worry over, sweetheart, I'm sorry I forgot to call you. Quinn's not going to school today, she's just a bit under the weather. You can go back and visit for a few minutes if you like, but then we've got to go to the doctor."

"Aww," Rachel pouted, instantly feeling guilty for keeping her girlfriend out in the elements so long the day before, no matter how much fun they'd had.

"It's really nothing to worry yourself over," Mrs. Fabray said again, giving Rachel's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "The doctor _did_ say she'd be more prone to infection for the next year or two, after rupturing her spleen. We're just playing it safe. A few days of rest and antibiotics, and she'll be just fine. Go on back and cheer her up a little, all right dear?" Rachel nodded glumly, and made her way down the hall to her girlfriend's bedroom, where she found Quinn pouting and cuddling her stuffed monster, curled up in bed with a hot compress held to her ear.

"I have an ear infection," Quinn announced miserably when Rachel came into the room. "I don't think I've had an ear infection since I was, like, eight years old."

"Poor baby," Rachel cooed, slipping under the covers beside her angel and cuddling up to her, kissing her feverish forehead and stroking her hair. "You just can't catch a break, can you? I'm so sorry, Quinn, this is all my fault."

"Why, because everything bad that happens to me is automatically your fault?" Quinn asked wryly, raising an eyebrow in weak amusement.

"No, because I kept you out on the water all day. I should've remembered about your spleen, I knew you were more vulnerable to infection; and I still suggested a ditch day activity that would involve an unnecessary level of exposure to the elements. I wasn't being practical." Rachel shook her head angrily, frowning to herself as she gently laid the back of her hand against Quinn's forehead. It was hot, but not blazing; not like when she'd been in the hospital, fighting off a lung infection after her surgery.

"I knew all that stuff too, you know," Quinn reminded her gently, taking Rachel's hand from her forehead and kissing it with a sleepy smile. "It was _my_ choice, and I'd do it all again in a minute. It was the best day...the best day I've had since the accident." They smiled at each other, and Rachel leaned in and kissed Quinn lightly on the lips. "I think a senior ditch day we'll remember forever is worth one week of antibiotics," the blonde girl smiled sleepily, tucking a lock of glossy brown hair back behind Rachel's ear. "We can't live our lives in a plastic bubble, Rach."

"I suppose that's true," Rachel sighed, still looking guilty and anxious as she gazed adoringly at her sweet baby, who yawned and nestled against her shoulder. "Does it hurt terribly, angel?"

"Nah, it's not so bad," Quinn sighed, taking the damp washcloth away from her ear and tossing it on the bedside table. "I'm just so sleepy..." She yawned again, and Rachel began threading her fingers gently through her girlfriend's golden blonde hair. They stayed that way for a few minutes, quietly snuggling, until Mrs. Fabray came back and gently told Quinn it was time to go to the doctor.

"Will you help me?" Quinn murmured woozily, rubbing her eyes as she gestured sleepily to her wheelchair. Getting in and out of the chair had been no problem at all since she'd been back in school, and it gave Rachel a pang to see her girlfriend back in a position where she was too weak to manage on her own; even if it was only for a few days.

"Of course, baby," Rachel hummed soothingly, slipping out of bed and helping Mrs. Fabray pull back the covers so they could lift Quinn out of bed and into her chair. She sneezed right in Rachel's face while they were lifting her, which only made Rachel giggle a little, even while Quinn was still trying to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Rach, that was really gross," the blonde girl groaned miserably, wiping her nose on the back of her wrist. "I didn't mean to give you my cooties."

"I like your cooties," Rachel smirked, leaning over Quinn's wheelchair and giving her a quick kiss on the lips. "Anyway, I still have my spleen, so I think I'll be okay." Quinn smiled shyly, and reached out a hand to stroke Rachel's cheek as the little starlet leaned over her wheelchair, her hands resting on Quinn's knees.

"I love you, dork."

"I love you too, gimp. Feel better, okay my sweet baby? I'll come see you after school."

…...

Quinn was out of school all that week; and when she came back the next Monday, Mercedes happened to say flippantly in the hall, "Dang, can you guys believe we only have six weeks left of high school?" From that moment on, the glee kids became suddenly and sharply sentimental, and expressed it every chance they got. Kurt made a shrine to Whitney Houston in his locker, and they all came and lit candles there every day, just standing there feeling sad, and occasionally singing together. Mr. Schue noticed, and decided to assign them Whitney Houston for the week; and they all focused on it so much, they actually managed to completely forget about nationals for a while. They all knew where they'd be going to college by now, anyway; the sense of urgency, of _needing_ to win nationals, had changed into something else, something that felt closer to all of them just wanting to be together all the time. Whitney Houston turned out to be an excellent conduit.

On Friday, they all performed the numbers they'd been working on all week; Kurt did a gorgeous rendition of "If I Don't Have You," Artie and Mercedes grooved on "My Love is Your Love," and Brittany got them all out of their seats and dancing together for "I Wanna Dance with Somebody." It gave Quinn a little bit of a pang to see them all dancing without her, even though Rachel and Britt both tried to pull her in with them; but it just felt so forced, and she didn't really even know _how_ to dance in a wheelchair anyway, and she felt insecure and self-conscious. So she just shook her head and waved them away, trying to look like it was no big deal to her.

Then Rachel and Santana did a duet—a rarity, even after they discovered how amazing their harmonies were in West Side Story, because they were both so headstrong that it was difficult for them to collaborate. But they'd apparently worked it out for Whitney's sake, because their rendition of "So Emotional" was incredible—and it made Quinn feel even worse than Brittany's number had. Of course she knew her best friend and her girlfriend weren't really into each other like that; but they had such amazing stage chemistry, and they just looked so good dancing together. It was obvious they were having a great time. Quinn tried to keep the tears out of her eyes, because Rachel kept smiling at her and blowing her kisses, and she didn't want to be a jerk while her girlfriend was on stage...but the more she tried to tell herself to buck up and stop being miserable, the more miserable she felt. When it was over, and everyone was hooting and screaming, Quinn was staring at her knees, just trying not to cry.

It only took a moment for Rachel to appear directly in front of her, hands on her knees, crouching down in front of her to force eye contact. Her big brown eyes were filled with nothing but love and concern. "Are you okay?" Quinn nodded, wiping roughly at her eyes with the end of her sleeve, but didn't speak. Rachel frowned.

"Mr. Schue, can we please have a five minute break before Quinn and I perform our number?"

"Sure, Rachel," Mr. Schue agreed a little too easily. Quinn's face flushed bright pink when she realized everyone was probably staring at her; but she kept her eyes fixed firmly on her knees, focused on holding back the tears that were pressing against her eyes. "That's five minutes, guys. Don't go too far." Rachel grabbed the handles on the back of Quinn's wheelchair, and pushed her briskly out into the hall, and around the corner for good measure, so they'd have a chance at privacy.

"Okay, what's the matter?"

"Nothing. Nothing I have the right to complain about," Quinn choked out, finally looking up at her girlfriend and letting the tears fall. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just really hard to watch you dancing with Santana...you guys looked so good together..."

"Oh my God, that's what this is about? You're jealous? Of _Santana?_" Rachel was so flabbergasted, she laughed out loud; and Quinn burst into tears. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry..." Rachel knelt down in front of Quinn's wheelchair, stroking her hair and trying to soothe her.

"I'm only j-jealous because s-she gets to dance with you and I d-don't!" Quinn wailed, burying her face in her hands. "It's not fair, I'm b-being stupid...s-sorry..."

"Shh, you don't have to be sorry, honey," Rachel murmured, climbing into Quinn's lap and kissing her hair. "You're allowed to have whatever feelings you have...I'm sorry if it was a little insensitive of me to sing a duet with Santana right now. It honestly never occurred to me that it would hurt your feelings...if I'd known, I never would've done it."

"I know," Quinn sniffled, closing her eyes. "That's why I feel like such a jerk right now...I didn't mean to be like this. I don't wanna spoil anything for you right now, these are the last memories of high school we're ever gonna get...I mean, what, am I gonna ask all my friends to stop having fun because I feel left out?" The blonde girl sighed and frowned to herself. "I'm being an idiot."

"You're not being an idiot," Rachel shook her head, wiping away the tear tracks from under Quinn's eyes with her thumb. "You're just sick of this damn chair. I understand. But you're gonna be back on your feet soon, angel...you are. I swear on my life." The little starlet ducked her head, one arm looped around her girlfriend's shoulders, and kissed her deeply. Quinn sighed into Rachel's soft lips, and the dark-haired girl could actively feel her girlfriend's entire body relax.

"Nobody loves me like you do," Quinn whispered when they broke apart, a small, dazed smile on her face as she slowly opened her eyes and looked up into Rachel's adoring gaze.

"And on that note," Rachel teased, twirling her fingers around a lock of Quinn's soft blonde hair, "I believe we have a duet to sing."

Everyone looked relieved when Quinn and Rachel came back into the choir room, and they all settled into their seats quickly when Mr. Schue called them back from their break. He nodded to Rachel, who smiled brightly and gave her sheet music to Brad.

"Sorry for having a little diva moment, guys," Quinn said sheepishly to her friends as she wheeled up beside Rachel at center stage. "I was just feeling a little sorry for myself...but you've all been so good to me, and I want you to know that I know that. Especially Rachel." She reached out and squeezed her girlfriend's hand beside her; and the little starlet turned and beamed at her, holding onto her hand for dear life. "And that's why I chose this song to sing with her...I can honestly say I've never meant anything I've sung more than this."

"You're making _me _cry now, dork," Rachel sniffed, smiling as she wiped away a few tears and nodded to Brad, who began playing. As the soft melody filled the air, Rachel smiled and began to sing.

_Like a candle burning bright  
>Love is glowing in your eyes<br>A flame to light our way  
>That burns brighter every day<br>But now I have you  
>Nobody loves me like you do<em>

Quinn wheeled a few feet forward, then spun to face her girlfriend, who beamed at her and gave her a little wink. The blonde girl bit her lip, smiling shyly, and sang the second verse of the song straight to her baby.__

_Like a leaf upon the wind  
>I could find no place to land<br>I dreamed the hours away  
>And wondered everyday<br>Do dreams come true  
>Nobody loves me like you do<em>

The whole room was mesmerized by the time they got to the chorus, which they sang together, smiling at each other just like they always had; and for a second, Quinn got a powerful, fleeting flash of a memory, of her first night at Rachel's house after Finn kicked her out, back before they had even started dating. How Rachel had brought her fresh-baked cookies and a cold glass of milk when she was curled up in bed crying. How her eyes had shone with the same love, even then; before Quinn had done anything to earn it. __

_What if I`d never met you  
>Where would I be right now<br>Funny how life just falls in place somehow  
>You've touched my heart in places that I never even knew<br>Cause nobody loves me like you do._


	23. Always

Hey Faberry fans!

Well it turns out I have had some down time to write while I'm on vacation...hope you'll all enjoy this chap! Good thing I already had Rachel get into college over spring break, because OMGZ more crazy plot twist drama on the show! I could not freaking believe that happened. It was almost as hard to watch Rachel flub her college audition as it was to see Quinn's crash, at least for me. I actually covered my eyes and peeked between my fingers when Rachel forgot the words, like it was a horror film or something. Oy vey! Poor Rachel! Rest assured, she's having a much better time here than she is on the show :)

A/N: Just as a "previously on TMAIA" reminder, in my world Quinn arranged an open adoption for baby Beth (which is indeed a real thing!), so regular visits are a part of the deal. There doesn't have to be a special reason! ;)

Enjoy,

—JW

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 23: Always**

…...

Quinn and Rachel were touching up their makeup in the girls' bathroom before glee, along with Santana, Tina, and Mercedes, when Brittany burst in with an enormous smile on her face, clapping her hands to get all their attention. Quinn had to turn her wheelchair away from the hand dryer, where the little suction-cup hand mirror Rachel had given her was conveniently suspended right at her eye level. On her first day back at school, she'd done her makeup in the actual reflection of the hand dryer itself, trying to ignore how warped it was and how degrading it felt; but the next morning, when Rachel picked her up, the little starlet had wordlessly handed her a little wrapped box with a sparkly silver bow on top. It was one of a million little things that Rachel had done to make Quinn's life easier and less stressful since the accident, and Quinn loved her more for it every day.

"I'm so glad you guys are all here!" Brittany squealed, clapping her hands as she bounced into the girls' bathroom, effectively gaining all their attention. "Student council just voted yes on my idea for the prom theme, and you guys are going to be the first ones to hear about it. Are you ready? It's so cool!" All the girls hooted and clapped their hands, eagerly awaiting the announcement of their senior prom theme, even if all of the suggestions Brittany had offered over the past couple of weeks had been, like Brittany herself, a little quirky and bizarre (Rachel just hoped it wasn't "alien abduction," a favorite theme of Brittany's, because neither green nor grey were in any way flattering to her olive skin tone).

"It's...dinosaurs!" The tall blonde squealed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping jubilantly. "We're having a prom-o-saurus!" All the girls laughed and cheered good naturedly—it may not be the prom theme of every little girl's dreams, but it was uniquely their own, and one they'd never forget. Plus, now that they knew it wasn't anything with a super-specific color palate, they could finally start shopping for dresses. Santana immediately whipped out her iPhone and started telling everyone when and where to meet for coordinated prom dress shopping; but when she came around to Quinn, the blonde girl shrugged and said offhandedly that she wasn't sure she was going to prom this year, anyway.

"You don't want to go to prom?" Rachel asked in shock, her dark eyes wide with confusion and disappointment.

"I just don't see the point," Quinn shrugged, brushing a nonexistent tuft of lint from her skirt. "I can't dance, and I've already been prom queen once. If I show up it'll just make everyone feel bad and awkward, and I'm so, so tired of being the center of attention out of pity. I just want everyone to have a good time at senior prom, and if I'm there it'll just be uncomfortable."

"It won't be," Tina disagreed vehemently, all the other girls nodding along with her emphatically. "Artie was at your prom last year, and _that _wasn't awkward. Prom is about all of us being together and having fun, and we won't have as much fun if you're not there, Quinn."

"Artie's different," Quinn shrugged, pulling her little suction-cup mirror off the hand dryer and sticking it back in her purse. "Everyone's used to him, and he's way more used to being in the chair than I am. I just don't know how to dance like this...and what else is there to do at prom?"

"What do you mean, you don't know how to dance in the chair?" Santana demanded, her face flushing angrily at the idea of her best friend ditching out of their senior prom. "You've been doing fine in glee. Just do what Artie does, mija, it's no different here."

"It _is _different, Santi," Quinn shook her head, her expression a little more remorseful when she saw how disappointed all her friends were; but no less resolute. "Dancing on stage with glee is all choreographed in advance, and we get to practice everything. Dancing at an _actual_ dance is different...I don't know how to dance in the chair with a partner. And I don't want to make Rachel look stupid."

"Do I get any say in this?" the little starlet asked pointedly, crossing the small space and sitting daintily in her girlfriend's lap, crossing her legs over the left wheel and wrapping her arms around the blonde girl's neck.

"I'm sorry, Rach, I know it's gonna suck for you either way," Quinn sighed glumly, dropping her forehead momentarily against her girlfriend's in quiet submission. "But I'm trying to make sure _your_ last memories of high school aren't all ruined, too. You can still go...dance with Finn, you guys will look amazing together. We had our dream prom last year, didn't we? Let's not spoil it now."

"I didn't realize that continuing to live our lives counted as _spoiling_ the past," Rachel shook her head, one hand playing absently with the loose blonde locks at the back of Quinn's neck. "And I don't want to dance with Finn. I want to dance with you."

"Well you _can't _dance with me, so I'm trying to give you a shot at some kind of plan B," the blonde girl said quietly, a slight edge to her voice as she looked down glumly at her knees.

"I don't accept that," Rachel shook her head, gently stroking a lock of golden blonde hair back behind her girlfriend's ear. "If you were still in the hospital, that would be one thing...but it's just nerves making you think you can't do this now, Quinnie. I know you can dance in the chair, I've seen it...and you might even be back on your feet before prom, anyway. We still have three weeks, and the doctors and physical therapists are all saying you're making remarkable progress. We really don't know _what's_ going to happen—it could be any day now."

"And what if it's not?" Quinn asked gently, slipping a hand up the back of Rachel's shirt and lightly scratching her nails up her lower back. "It's just too much pressure, Rach. I don't want that right now, okay? I just want to sit this one out, I'm tired of doing everything the hard way. I'm just tired." Rachel's eyes filled up with tears; but it was Brittany who spoke.

"You're being selfish, Quinn," the tall blonde Cheerio said quietly, making the rest of the girls stare at her in silent shock. "It's our senior prom, we're all supposed to be together. Just because you're in a wheelchair doesn't mean we can all just forget you exist. We'll miss you."

"She's right, Q. We _will_ miss you," Santana agreed, squeezing her girlfriend's shoulder with a sad smile.

"Artie and I used to dance together all the time when we were dating," Tina chimed in, grabbing Quinn's hands and pulling her in a circle with Rachel still in her lap, making both girls laugh despite themselves. "I bet if we asked him, he wouldn't mind having a little wheelchair dance camp to help get you ready. Rachel, you'd practice with us, wouldn't you?"

"Try and stop me," Rachel beamed, squeezing Quinn's hand excitedly. "What do you say, angelcake?" Quinn sighed and bit her lip, looking around at all her friends' hopeful expressions. They didn't care about being seen with her wheelchair...they didn't care about the stares and the pity. They just wanted to be together for their senior prom, like they'd always planned. And underneath all the anxiety and the self-doubt, Quinn knew that was what she wanted, too.

"Okay...I'll try," she nodded, making them all hoot and clap with giddy relief, while Rachel threw her arms around her girlfriend's neck and kissed her soundly. "Let's give it a shot. I wanna rock the dinosaur prom."

…...

Artie taught Quinn and Rachel a few slow waltzes and a faster samba, along with some fancy spins and twirls; and after a few rehearsals, even Quinn had to admit she was having fun. She still wasn't sure any of this was truly practical for the prom; when they were rehearsing all alone in the auditorium, they had all the space they needed, but the blonde girl was wary of trying any of these wide-arced spins and turns in the middle of a crowded dance floor. She'd be mortified if she rolled over some girl's Jimmy Choo platforms and left tire marks. Still, it was making Rachel happy, and it took Quinn's mind off her physical therapy for a while, so she kept at it.

Another thing that kept Quinn's mind off physical therapy was baby Beth's second birthday. It had technically already passed, when Quinn was home sick after the lake trip; but Rob and Jack, Beth's adoptive dads, had talked to Judy about making a special trip up to Lima to give Quinn and Beth some bonding time before Quinn left for college. And of course, both Mrs. Fabray and Rachel's dads were eager to see the child they'd laid eyes on for only the first few hours of her life. So, with very little fuss and fanfare, the Morgan-Green family arrived at the Fabray house on the first Saturday afternoon in May, lead by the taller-every-day toddler who ran ahead of her dads into the house, yelling "Mama, I two!" until she found Quinn and Rachel in the living room, and launched herself into the blonde girl's lap.

"Hey there, big girl," Quinn cooed breathlessly, sitting the toddler lightly across her lap and marveling at how big she'd gotten since they'd last seen her over winter break. She was looking less and less like a baby every day, and more like a child; her legs were so long now, and her hair, lightening to a golden, straw blond very similar to Quinn's, but curlier, like Puck's (well, before the mohawk anyway). "Look how tall you are, Bethy!"

"I two," Beth replied proudly, puffing out her little chest and dazzling her guests with her glowing, gap-toothed smile. "I have a big party, wif pony rides an' cake, an' Daddy an' Papa got me big-girl swingset!"

"Wow, that sounds so cool," Quinn smiled, kissing her little girl's chubby cheeks and hugging her close. "I'm sorry I wasn't at your party, ladybug. I wasn't feeling so good and I had to stay home," the blonde girl explained gently, giving her baby one more kiss on the cheek. "But it's okay if I give you birthday kisses now, right?"

"Yeah! More kisses for Bethy!" the little girl squealed in delight, squirming out of Quinn's arms and slipping out of her wheelchair to launch herself at Rachel now. "Kisses, Ray-Ray!"

"Oof! Come here, big boo," Rachel laughed, scooping Beth up and blowing raspberries on her stomach until the little girl screamed with delight.

"Rach, enough, she's gonna ralph on you," Quinn chuckled, wheeling forward a few inches to put a calming hand on her girlfriend's knee. Beth's giggles calmed as Rachel rocked her and rubbed her back, and the little girl looked pensively from Rachel to Quinn, her eyes taking in the new and perplexing chair with the big wheels on each side.

"Ray-Ray, how come Mama have those big wheels?" the little girl asked innocently, pointing at Quinn's wheelchair. "It's a new toy? Mama have birfday too?"

"No, honey, it's not a toy," Rachel said gently, sharing a sad smile with Quinn. They'd already discussed how to talk to Beth about Quinn's injury, of course; but talking about it and actually facing it head-on were very different things, and Rachel found that with the two-year-old's enormous, curious hazel eyes fixed on her, so much like Quinn's, the words just wouldn't come.

"I had an accident and I hurt my legs, sweetie," Quinn explained gently, exchanging a sad smile with Rachel. "I'll be okay soon, but right now I can't walk, so that's why I have the wheelchair. It helps me get around, see?" Quinn hastily backed her chair up and wheeled across the room, spinning in the corner as Artie had taught her, and earning a peal of delighted laughter from her daughter. But by the time she wheeled back, little Beth had a thoughtful frown on her face.

"Mama got hurted?" the child asked gravely, pointing to Quinn's legs.

"Just for a little while," Quinn nodded, trying to downplay the severity of her injuries for her daughter's sake. "I'll be walking again soon, Bethy, so don't you worry."

"I kiss it," Beth said firmly, wriggling out of Rachel's lap and running to Quinn, standing on tiptoes to kiss her noisily on one knee, then the other.

"Thank you, baby," the blonde girl smiled, stroking the wispy-fine curls on top of Beth's little head.

"Ray-Ray kiss it," Beth demanded, pointing to Quinn's knees. Rachel grinned at the serious expression on the child's face, and knelt down beside her at the foot of Quinn's wheelchair, kissing her on both knees just as Beth had (though with considerably less drool involved). "All better now, Mama!" Beth declared happily, with all the confidence and certainty a two-year-old could offer. Rachel was still smiling, her fingers grazing lightly over her girlfriend's bare knee, until the blonde girl giggled and squirmed.

"What?" Rachel asked in surprise, raising an eyebrow.

"It tickles," Quinn explained, biting her lip as a shy smile broke across her face.

"It...it does?" Rachel whispered, her eyes filling up with tears of happiness. Quinn nodded, beaming back at her. They tried not to talk about it too much these days, as it only caused Quinn more stress and pressure to think about everyone else's hopes and expectations as her physical therapy progressed; but it was true, what Rachel had said in the girls' bathroom at school. She really might walk again any day now.

"Mama, spin!" Beth commanded, oblivious to the emotion passing through the room as she clambered back into Quinn's lap in the wheelchair, kicking her feet excitedly in the air. "Spin me fast, Mama!"

"Are you suuuure?" Quinn teased, taking a moment to wipe the tears from her eyes as she backed her wheelchair up a few feet, and faced the open room. "Are you gonna hold on tight?"

"Yes, yes! Go fast, Mama! I hold on!" Beth bounced excitedly in Quinn's lap, holding onto her skirt tightly in two chubby little fists.

"Okay...here we go!" Quinn cried happily, zooming across the wide living room with Beth laughing hysterically in her lap, using all the spins and twirls that Artie had taught her, while Rachel snapped a few photos of her two smiling girls. It may not have been the intended use for the wheelchair dance moves they'd been learning, but there was no question that it kept both their minds off prom for a while.

…...

Rachel slept at Quinn's that night, something she'd been doing a lot more of since the accident. They'd spent far more time having sleepovers at the Berry house before; but now, with wheelchairs and stairs to consider, it was Quinn's house or no more sleepovers, and Rachel wasn't about to have that. They were cuddled up together in the pale, peaceful light of early dawn, Quinn on her back and Rachel curled half on top of her, when the blonde girl woke to the sound of her little starlet's frightened whimpers and moans, as she twisted around in the sheets.

"Shh...you're having a bad dream, baby," Quinn murmured huskily, yawning as she gathered her girlfriend's sleeping body closer and began rhythmically rubbing her back.

_"No,"_ Rachel cried out in her sleep, her tears soaking into the thin material of Quinn's tank top as she clutched the sheets and sobbed. "No, no, you can't die, Quinn, please...somebody help us, please, please..."

"Hey, I'm right here," the blonde girl cooed gently, wary of waking her sleeping girlfriend too abruptly, but also anxious to end her nightmare as the subject became clear. "I'm right here, Rachel. I'm not gonna die, shhh...can you hear me, starlight? I'm right here..." With a shriek of absolute anguish, Rachel opened her teary eyes, staring straight into Quinn's adoring hazel gaze.

"Oh God, Quinn," the little starlet whimpered; then she burst into tears, throwing both arms around her girlfriend's warm body and holding onto her for dear life.

"It was just a dream, honey, it was just a bad dream," Quinn hummed softly, rubbing Rachel's back and stroking her hair as the little starlet let all her tears out in a rush, shaking and sobbing helplessly.

"Sorry," Rachel finally sniffled when her breathing slowed and her tears ebbed. "Didn't mean to wake you up..."

"Rach, don't be stupid," Quinn smiled sadly, smoothing her girlfriend's messy bangs back from her face and kissing her forehead. "How many nights did I wake up crying when we first got together? And you were always there to kiss me and cuddle me and make the monsters go away...always." Rachel sniffed, and Quinn tilted her chin up gently, sharing a sweet, soothing, 5am kiss. "Were you dreaming about the accident, baby? I heard you talking in your sleep a little."

"We don't have to talk about it," Rachel shook her head sleepily, rubbing the tear streaks from her flushed face. "I don't want to make you think about that ever again."

"Bad things don't go away just because you don't talk about them," Quinn reminded her gently, stroking a few more sleep-mussed locks of dark hair back from her girlfriend's face. "You taught me that, remember? And you also taught me that love is about sharing our burdens...letting people help you face your demons. So talk to me, starlight. Tell me what you dreamed."

"It's...the same one I've been having on and off for the past couple of months," Rachel sniffed, curling up on her side with her head pillowed on Quinn's shoulder. The blonde girl gently traced her fingertips up and down her girlfriend's arm while she spoke, wanting to convey her reassurance without interrupting, for fear Rachel wouldn't be able to go on. "I dream about the accident, but...in the dream, I'm there at the intersection, watching it happen...and I know exactly what's going to happen, I scream and scream for you to stop the car before you get to the stop sign, but you never hear me, and I have to watch it happen. Then I pull you out of the wreck and you're bleeding, so much blood, I can _feel _it gushing between my fingers, and I know you're dying..."

Quinn felt the sharp sting of tears welling up in her eyes as Rachel broke off into a fresh flood of sobbing. Not for herself, but for Rachel; for all the pain she'd endured silently, without complaint, without a thought for herself, all through the nightmare they'd faced together.

"My sweet girl," Quinn hummed softly, pulling Rachel tighter against her, stroking the shorter girl's shaking back while she sobbed uncontrollably into Quinn's throat. "You've been so brave, baby...I swear I'll never leave you, Rach. I promise, I'll never, ever scare you like that again."

"Why does it keep coming back? Why do I have to see it over and over?" Rachel wailed, curling up tighter in the warm, solid security of her girlfriend's arms. "I just want to be strong for you, I try so hard..."

"Shh, baby...you _are _strong, Rach, you don't have to try anymore," Quinn murmured, her hand tracing soothing circles on her girlfriend's back under her pajama top. "You're allowed to have your own feelings in all this, honey. You have to have them. This whole experience, the accident...it didn't just happen to me. It happened to you too, Rach. And you've been so brave and amazing, and you've taken such good care of me, even when I didn't know what I needed or how to ask...you can take some time for yourself now, honey. I'm here for you, too...always."

"Say it again," Rachel sniffed, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she nestled her head more snugly against Quinn's chest.

"I'm here for you, baby," Quinn hummed, running her fingers through her girlfriend's thick, shiny dark hair.

"No," Rachel shook her head, smiling sleepily at the blonde girl as she propped herself up on one elbow. "The other part."

"Always," Quinn whispered, leaning forward to meet Rachel's lips in a deep, slow, nightmare-ending kiss.


	24. Take My Breath Away

Hi Faberrians!

Well I'm back from my vacation now, refreshed and ready for some major Glee fun this week. I hope you'll all enjoy my take on the McKinley senior prom—and just as a quick reminder, in my world Quinn and Rachel were already prom queens last year, so that does have some impact on how this year's prom will go. Obviously, good times will be had. Enjoy! :)

—JW

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 24: Take My Breath Away**

…...

Quinn was in homeroom with Brittany and Santana when Figgins' voice came over the PA system, announcing the nominees for prom court. Traditionally, whoever won junior prom king and queen were_ not_ re-nominated again senior year, so others could have a chance at the spotlight; but with all the unwanted attention Quinn had been getting since her accident, she was still a little wary that the sympathy vote would end up swaying her classmates to nominate her into prom court a second time just out of pity. She was therefore hugely relieved when her name _wasn't_ called, and she clapped for her best friend when Santana's name was announced, along with Missy Gunderson and Amy Alper, another popular cheerleader who had been dating Finn for the past couple of months.

"So you gonna help me campaign, Q? Not like I really need any help, but it couldn't hurt to have the reigning queen's endorsement. Especially since half the school is falling all over themselves to do your bidding these days, what with you being a crip and all." Santana shrugged offhandedly as they left homeroom for their first class, making Quinn roll her eyes in a mixture of annoyance and affection.

"As long as you promise not to work the pity angle, sure. I'm really over the whole world treating me like a piece of glass that might shatter any minute." Quinn agreed with a sigh, wheeling herself along beside her best friend.

"Whatever you say, Evil Knievel. I'll push your wheelchair through a flaming hoop over a tank of sharks if it'll make you feel more badass."

"You're a true friend, Santi," Quinn chuckled dryly, rolling through the doorway to her first period History class.

"It's one of my many queenly qualities," Santana agreed with a snarky wink, pulling out Quinn's chair so she could wheel herself up to her desk, and taking the seat beside her. "So, my house after school today for poster-making and general campaign brainstorming?"

"Can't today, I have physical therapy. Can we do it after dinner?"

"No, I'm helping Britt with the dinosaur prom decorations," Santana frowned, flipping through her calendar. "Can I just put your face on my posters and call it a day? I promise to make you look totally badass."

"Yeah, sure," Quinn shrugged, twisting around in her wheelchair to pull her books out of her backpack. "Just email me the final print, will you? I want the chance to veto in case you let Britt talk you into putting our heads on velociraptors or something."

"Hey, you _said _you wanted to look tough. You could do a lot worse than a velociraptor, y'know," the Latina shrugged with a little wink. Quinn stuck out her tongue, and Santana laughed until the teacher called for order and began the classwork.

…...

"Come on Quinn, you can do it! It's time to take your hands off the bars. C'mon, you got this!" Quinn's physical therapist, a sweet teddy bear of a man named Josh, psyched her up with cheers of encouragement as she stood trembling between the bars, her arms shaking with the effort of holding herself up while she took tiny baby steps from one end of the mat to the other.

"You can do this, Quinnie. I'm right here," Rachel cooed on her other side, her hands hovering near her girlfriend in case she fell, but not actively helping her move. "You're ready for this, I know you are..."

Quinn didn't answer, her breath and her concentration focused completely on her legs, letting them slowly take the weight she'd been leaning on her arms, until finally her hands were just resting on the bars, not holding her up. She knew she could stand now, but she was still scared to actually let go of the bars and take a step unsupported; she was afraid of falling, of hitting her head on the metal bars or landing on her still-healing ribs.

"Let go, baby," Rachel murmured softly in her ear, one hand resting briefly on Quinn's lower back, just for a moment, to remind her how close they were in case she did stumble. "I won't let you fall. It's time to let go now." Gritting her teeth, the blonde girl released the metal bar from her sweaty palms; and with a deep breath, she took a tiny step forward.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Look at her go!" Josh cheered, while Rachel made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob in the back of her throat. Quinn smiled a little, but didn't respond, still breathless and panting with the effort of putting one foot in front of the other. They kept cheering her on until she reached the end of the mat, where her strength finally failed and she half stumbled, half fell into Josh's strong arms.

"Way to go, kiddo! You did it, you walked!" He cheered, holding her up while Rachel hastily pulled her wheelchair around so the exhausted girl could sit down again.

"I walked," Quinn repeated dazedly, beaming at her girlfriend as the little starlet fussed over her and offered her a drink of water.

"You bet your sweet little ass you did," Rachel agreed jubilantly, kissing her shaking girlfriend all over her sweaty face. "I'm so proud of you, angel...I can't wait for everyone to see..."

"No, not yet Rach," Quinn shook her head. "I want to show them when it's real, when I can really walk into a room and leave the wheelchair behind for good."

"Well we're getting close, Quinn, but it'll be a few more weeks until you're ready for that," her physical therapist said as he clapped her on the shoulder. "In the meantime, I think we should get you a walker for around the house. The more you practice and exercise your legs, the faster you'll be back on your feet for real. We'll keep the wheelchair for school, but at home I want you to stick to the walker as much as possible from here on out. How does that sound?"

"Good," Quinn nodded, beaming up at them both as Rachel began to cry (tears of joy, she assured them) and Josh went to get her brand new walker from the storage locker.

"So I guess I'm graduating from helpless infant to somewhat-less-helpless little old lady," the blonde girl joked weakly, pushing a lock of sweat-soaked hair back behind her ear as she contemplated the transition from wheelchair to walker.

"Don't minimize your accomplishments, Quinn," Rachel shook her head, still smiling despite herself. "You've come so far in so little time, and you've worked so hard, and I'm so, so proud of you. Wait till everyone sees us dancing at prom. You're gonna show 'em all that no power on earth can keep Quinn Fabray down for long."

"We'll see," Quinn shrugged, still wary of making any promises to her girlfriend about exactly when she'd be ready for walking (let alone dancing) completely unassisted; but she wasn't giving up, either. "I don't know if I'll be ready to do the dinosaur dance at prom...but I'm gonna try, okay Rach?" The little starlet beamed, eagerly helping her girlfriend back to her feet when Josh returned with the walker, and cheering her on like a gold-medal olympic sprinter while she slowly made her way from one end of the clinic hallway to the other.

…...

Quinn's mom and Rachel's dads all cried when they saw the blonde girl standing with her walker for the first time; and though they too were eager to spread the good news of the blonde girl's amazing progress with her recovery, they also respected her choice to keep it quiet until she could truly walk, without the help of the walker, before telling anyone else. So the next day was business as usual, with Quinn in her wheelchair as Rachel bounced happily beside her, talking a mile a minute about song selections for nationals as they made their way into the main hallway of McKinley.

"Looks like Santana actually listened to you for once," the dark-haired girl pointed out as they approached the first of Santana's prom queen posters in the hallway; it featured a campy but adorable image of Quinn in her wheelchair, which had been photoshopped to include fire-spitting rocket launchers behind the wheels, jumping over a smiling Santana, who held a flaming hoop over her head. The words _Santana Lopez for Prom Queen_ topped the whole flaming effect, and even though it was incredibly silly, there was no doubt that it avoided the pity angle, just as the blonde girl had asked.

"I feel more badass already," Quinn agreed, smirking as she took in the poster.

"I'm going to ask Santana if I can keep one of these. To decorate my room next year at Julliard," Rachel grinned back impishly. The blonde girl crooked her finger at her girlfriend, beckoning her down for a kiss; but just as their lips touched, an angry voice cut through the din in the hallway and broke them abruptly apart.

"What the hell, Quinn?" Finn yelled, storming around the corner with his face set in an angry snarl. "You're campaigning when you're not even in prom court? Like anyone else even has a chance with you in that damn wheelchair, making everyone feel sorry for you!"

"Don't you dare speak to her that way," Rachel exclaimed indignantly, taking half a step forward as if to shield her girlfriend from the football player's aggression. "Quinn has the right to help anyone she wants run for prom queen, Finn. And if her endorsement does sway the vote in Santana's favor, it will be because it's coming from the reigning queen, not because she happens to be in a wheelchair."

"Oh, right, like I'm supposed to believe that," Finn snorted angrily, glaring from Rachel to Quinn. "How much more are you gonna milk this, Quinn? I know it's fun to be the center of attention all the time, but give someone else a chance, will you? Amy's never had a shot at anything like this before, and now with you playing your pity card for Santana, no one else is gonna have a prayer."

"Can you even hear the words coming out of your mouth?" Quinn asked quietly, blinking back angry tears as a small crowd began to form around them in the hall, hoping for a good shouting match to feed the daily gossip mill. "If you want the kind of attention I've been getting lately, by all means go out and get yourself paralyzed. It's so much fucking fun, I'm thinking of throwing myself in front of a bus next."

"That wasn't what I meant," Finn huffed, crossing his arms and glaring back at her defiantly. "I just think it's a cheap trick to make people vote for Santana just 'cause they all feel sorry for you." Quinn's cheeks burned with embarrassment at her ex-boyfriend's cruel words; and all around her, she could see people's eyes widening and their jaws hanging open in shock. Of course, objectively she knew that it was because of Finn and his horrible, immature behavior, and not about her at all; but he'd just said the one thing she'd been most hung up on in the last few months, and it hit a nerve. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she gaped at him, but it was Rachel who found her words first and formed a response.

"Well lucky for you, Finn Hudson, you don't _need _a wheelchair to make everyone feel sorry for you," the little starlet snarled, putting a hand protectively on Quinn's shoulder. "All your poster has to say is, _Finn Hudson for prom king, turning girls gay since 2009_." A wave of snickers erupted in the crowd around them, and Finn's face flushed a bright, angry red as he looked around at all the amused faces staring at him.

"Whatever," he snarled, and stormed away. Quinn sniffed and wiped her eyes, looking up at Rachel with a weak smile; but the dark-haired girl was still staring blankly at the spot where the surly football player had just been standing, her eyes blazing with fury and her face flushed bright pink.

"Thanks, Rach," Quinn said softly, reaching out and squeezing her girlfriend's hand.

"I really, truly, from the bottom of my soul cannot _believe_ we both dated him once," Rachel growled, making Quinn chuckle in weak amusement.

"We were young and foolish," the blonde girl agreed with a shrug, as Brittany and Santana cut their way through the dispersing crowd to their side.

"What the fuck just happened over here, chicas? Does this have anything to do with Finnessa screaming his doughy little head off a minute ago? I thought he'd be off exchanging STD's with that skank Amy in the janitor's closet by now."

"Santana, give me some more of those posters to hang up," Rachel demanded, holding out a hand to the bemused cheerleader. "We're going to make you prom queen."

…...

Rachel was as good as her word, and for the rest of the week, only Quinn's physical therapy took precedence over Santana's prom queen campaign. Between that and starting preparations for nationals, the week flew by in what seemed like the blink of an eye; and before they knew it, they were dressing for their senior prom. Quinn had worked hard in physical therapy all week, spending hours between the bars and with her walker; but she still wasn't quite strong enough to leave the wheelchair behind completely. She thought maybe she'd surprise everyone when the time came for her to crown the new prom queen; but this thought, along with all others, flew right out of her head when Rachel walked into her kitchen in her flowing, pale pink prom dress.

"You look like a goddess," Quinn beamed, reaching for Rachel's hands to pull her down for a gentle kiss.

"So do you," Rachel hummed appreciatively, her eyes traveling up and down her girlfriend's shimmering lilac gown.

"Picture time, kids!" Judy squealed, holding up her camera excitedly as she hustled them out into the stairwell.

"Wait...I'm not taking my senior prom pictures in this wheelchair," Quinn said with a nod of determination, reaching out for Rachel's hands. The little diva happily helped her girlfriend to her feet, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around Quinn's waist so the taller girl could lean on her a little (okay, a lot) while Judy snapped a few pictures.

"You both look so beautiful," Judy sighed happily; then gave a small yelp of alarm when Quinn stumbled a little against Rachel's side.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Quinn panted, smiling gratefully when Rachel helped her back into her chair.

"Please don't do anything overambitious tonight, sweetheart," Judy said anxiously, putting her camera aside and giving her daughter's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I know you want to dance at your prom, but a fall on that hardwood dance floor will be a lot harder on your body than the mats at physical therapy, and we don't want a setback so close to the finish line, now do we?"

"I promise I'll be careful, Mom," Quinn agreed with a small sigh, smiling despite herself.

"And I promise I'll make sure she doesn't strain herself," Rachel piped up, earning a grateful hug from Mrs. Fabray. The honking of the limo outside spared them any more fussing or theatrics from Mrs. Fabray, and a moment later Brittany and Santana were at the door.

"The royal chariot has arrived!" Santana announced as she threw the door open, waving her friends out into the night.

…...

Though they had all helped with the decorations, seeing the fully prom-ified gym was something else entirely; and both Quinn and Rachel had to admit that Brittany had pulled off her prom-o-saurus with aplomb. It was silly and elegant at the same time, and Quinn was relieved to find that she did in fact have plenty of room on the dance floor to move her wheelchair around, using most of the dance moves Artie had taught her over the past couple of weeks. The evening was a blur of dancing and laughing and posing with various plaster dinosaur figures, until Rachel and Santana both froze at the alarming sight of Finn storming after Quinn, who was wheeling away from him as fast as she could while he shouted at her over the music.

"Stand up, you goddam liar! Let everyone see what a phony you are!" the angry boy roared, getting the attention of everyone he passed as he screamed at a girl in a wheelchair to stand up.

"What the hell is wrong with you, dough boy?" Santana snarled, pushing him back away from Quinn as Rachel rushed to her girlfriend's side.

"Like you don't know," he snorted, rolling his eyes at Santana, who just looked at him blankly. "Oh, wow, I guess you're an even bigger liar than I thought, Quinn. What about you, Rachel—did you know she can walk?" A hum of whispered chatter was immediately detectable below the music, as the murmurs of _Quinn can walk? _began to circulate around them. Quinn glared up at him furiously, tears spilling from her eyes.

"My legs are getting stronger, yes," she said said quietly, "and I can take a few steps by myself, like you saw in the bathroom just now. Soon I might be able to get rid of the wheelchair for good. I _was_ hoping to surprise everyone soon, when I can really walk again; but thanks for ruining it, you big, stupid jerk."

"You're a liar! You just want everyone to feel sorry for you!" Finn yelled, trying to push past Santana, and grabbing Quinn under her arms to try to force her to her feet. Instantly, half of the glee guys were on him, pushing him back away from Quinn's wheelchair while Brittany and Santana grabbed a shell-shocked Quinn around her waist when she fell from Finn's grip. Rachel, for her part, marched up to Finn and grabbed his tie to pull him down to her eye level, enjoying his choking sound as she yanked on his neck.

"If you ever lay a hand on her again, I will rip your balls off with my bare hands," she growled quietly in his ear, yanking hard on his tie for emphasis. "Do you understand me, Finn Hudson? I forgave you last year when you sent me to the hospital with a bleeding head wound, and I forgave you when you kissed me on stage in front of a thousand people at nationals; but I will _never_ forgive you for this. Never. Touch. Her. Again." She released him just as Coach Sylvester approached to break up the tussle, promptly ejecting Finn from the prom for the second year in a row. Satisfied that he was no longer a threat, Rachel turned to her girlfriend, who was safely back in her wheelchair, crying quietly with her face in her hands.

"Are you all right, angel? Did he hurt you?" Rachel crooned, kneeling down at her girlfriend's feet and trying to see into her face, running her hands lightly over the blonde girl's body in search of any new injuries. Quinn just shook her head, crying too much to talk.

"C'mon mijas, outside," Santana demanded, grabbing the handles on Quinn's wheelchair and pushing her out towards the exit, Brittany close on her heels.

"Jesus, what is it with me and proms?" Quinn exploded angrily when they were safely back in the girls' bathroom, away from the gawking eyes of their classmates. "I might as well forget the dress and just wear a sign that says, 'dear meathead jock assholes, please attack me.' Fuck!"

"Finn Hudson is an idiot," Santana agreed, gently rubbing her friend's shaking back while Rachel curled up in her lap and kissed a few tears from her girlfriend's flushed cheeks. "But he's gone now, Q. Coach Sue kicked his ass out. Don't let him ruin your prom night, okay querida? It's okay now..."

"Was what he said true?" Brittany asked quietly, offering Quinn a damp paper towel to wipe her face. "Can you really walk now?"

"Only a little," Quinn sighed, taking the offering and wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. "I wanted to wait until I could really walk before I showed everyone...I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Listen, hardly anyone heard what you guys were shouting about over the music," Santana shrugged, squeezing her best friend's shoulder sympathetically. "You'll still get your surprise, chica. Now, are you ready to go dance, or do you need another minute?"

"I...I just..." Quinn shook her head miserably, fresh tears welling up in her eyes as she looked back to Rachel in a panic.

"Santana, would you bring us a cup of punch?" the little starlet asked delicately, taking the damp paper towel from Quinn's hand and wiping away the fresh tears as they fell.

"Sure thing, shortcake. C'mon B, let's give 'em a minute to get it together." Hand in hand, Brittany and Santana slipped out of the bathroom, leaving Rachel to soothe her sniffling girlfriend in privacy.

"I'm sorry, Rach," Quinn whimpered, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against her girlfriend's with a quiet sigh.

"Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for," Rachel replied soothingly, stroking her girlfriend's cheek and pulling back to look into her teary hazel eyes. "Finn Hudson is a jealous, insecure toddler in big boy's clothes, and soon enough he'll be eating our dust when we're off to New York, and he's stuck here fixing tires for the rest of his life. Don't let him be the thing we remember about tonight, sunshine...don't give him that power."

"I know you're right," Quinn nodded weakly, wiping her nose on the back of her wrist with a soft sniffle. "I just...I feel so messed up right now...I'm shaking all over..."

"I can fix that," Rachel murmured, cupping Quinn's face gently in her hands and kissing her deeply, tongues probing and swirling together in the electric warmth between them until the dull, tiled walls of the girls' bathroom disappeared, along with the rest of the world.

"Dang, I can't leave you horny sluts alone for a minute, can I?" Santana joked as she barged back into the room with Brittany, smirking knowingly as she handed over a cup of Sue Sylvester's prom-bomb punch.

"Thanks, San," Quinn smiled woozily, still dazed from the intensity of Rachel's kisses as she took a gulp of the sweet punch. "Whoa—I think Puck finally managed to spike the punch bowl this year."

"Oh yeah, we noticed that too," Brittany agreed cheerfully. "I decided to let it slide even though grain alcohol wasn't invented until 30,000 years after dinosaurs went extinct, because I like it and it makes prom night even more awesome."

"Well reasoned, Madam President," Rachel joked, climbing to her feet and smoothing out Quinn's dress as well as her own. "What do you say, angel—ready to get back out there and enjoy the end of our senior prom?"

"Yeah," Quinn nodded, taking a deep breath as she smiled up at her girlfriend and her two best friends. "Thanks, you guys. I really, really fucking love you."

"We love you too, Q," Santana grinned, squeezing her hand briefly before wrapping her arm around Brittany's waist and steering them towards the door. "Now let's get back out there before I miss my own coronation."

It was no surprise to anyone when Santana did in fact win prom queen; but since the elected king, one Finn Hudson, had been ejected from the prom, Brittany was crowned king in his place, and Quinn got her moment to surprise everyone when she stood up and took a few shaky steps across the stage to put the crown on Santana's head. The senior class went insane with applause; and Rachel was there to wrap a strong arm around her girlfriend's waist when Quinn wobbled on her feet, grabbing the microphone pole to steady herself.

"Do you want to sit back down now, baby?" Rachel murmured in her ear, her thumb rubbing absent circles over Quinn's slim hip as she helped hold her girlfriend up.

"Not yet," Quinn shook her head, smiling shyly at the beaming expressions of her friends and classmates as the first few notes of the coronation dance began to play, and Brittany and Santana took the dance floor. "I want to sing on my feet. Can you help me a little bit longer, Rach?"

"Of course, angel," Rachel nodded, giving her girlfriend a quick kiss before passing her the microphone, and taking the second one for herself. Standing together, their arms strong around each other, they both began to sing.

_Watching every motion in my foolish lover's game  
>On this endless ocean finally lovers know no shame<br>Turning and returning to some secret place inside  
>Watching in slow motion as you turn around and say...<em>

_Take my breath away_

_Take my breath away._


	25. We Are the Champions

Hola Faberrians!

I can't believe our darling girls are going to be graduating tomorrow night…I'm all choked up! Not sure yet what the future of this series will be post-graduation, but I will keep you posted. For now, please enjoy this chap, and consider this your **FAIR WARNING: this chap is rated M for naked sexy times.** Oh yes, Quinn was getting _very_ impatient. Enjoy… ;)

…...

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 25: We Are the Champions**

…...

Quinn's first day back at school without her wheelchair was a triumph, but it was also exhausting. The blonde girl was stiff and sore from her arduous physical therapy, but she tried not to show it, keen to prove to her friends that they didn't need to keep treating her like a delicate porcelain doll. Rachel could always tell when she was in pain, though. The dark-haired girl didn't say anything at school, because she knew Quinn didn't want to be babied; but that evening after glee rehearsal, up in Rachel's bedroom (where Quinn hadn't set foot for three whole months), the little starlet broke out her special eucalyptus massage oil, and with a playful leer, commanded her girlfriend to strip.

"Eager much?" Quinn teased playfully, raising an eyebrow at her girlfriend's businesslike expression as she laid a beach towel down on the bed.

"This isn't about sex, Quinn," Rachel huffed; but a cherry-red blush rose in her cheeks nonetheless. "I know you're in pain, even if you won't say it. Your muscles are working harder than they've ever worked before, which after three years of Cheerios pre-season boot camp, is really saying something. I thought you might benefit from a full-body essential oil massage. But if you're not interested..." Rachel smirked as she trailed off, knowing she had Quinn on her hook even before the glazed expression of euphoria came over the blonde girl's face.

"Oh fuck yes, I'm interested," Quinn nodded vehemently, stripping off her sundress and dropping onto the bed with an enormous smile. "But I'm really not in pain anymore...it's more like the day after a marathon, you know? I'm just kind of achy and sore. Anything your oily fingers can do would be greatly appreciated." Quinn winked playfully, and Rachel grinned, biting her lip as she watched the blonde girl unhook her bra and toss it over the back of the desk chair. After three months, the scars across Quinn's ribcage and torso had faded quite a bit; when Rachel looked at her girlfriend's naked body now, she saw the angelic girl she'd fallen in love with, not her injuries. Still, the little starlet was determined to be gentle, to be the cause only of Quinn's pleasure, and never her pain.

"Your wish is my command, my lady," Rachel purred, stripping down to her underwear, too, so she wouldn't get massage oil all over her clothes; then she crawled on top of her girlfriend on the bed, straddling her hips and pouring a liberal amount of the pre-warmed oil into the palm of her hand. "Here we go," she murmured, kneading her slick hands into the soft, smooth skin of her girlfriend's back.

"Ohhh, God Rach...that feels so fucking good," Quinn sighed, relaxing under her girlfriend's gentle hands as they slowly and methodically rubbed all the tension from her sore shoulders, her spine, her hips and her lower back.

"I want you to feel good," Rachel murmured, the teasing gone from her voice now as she fell captive to the intoxicating spell of her girlfriend's nearly-naked body stretched out between her legs.

"Mm...mission accomplished," Quinn mumbled against the pillow, sighing like a kitten in a ray of sunshine as Rachel's skilled fingers continued to work all the knots and tension from her sore muscles, moving from her back down to her legs, taking the time to ensure that each one got equal attention. Finally, when Quinn's entire body was slippery with fragrant oil, and Rachel's hands were limp with exhaustion, the blonde girl rolled onto her back, smiling lazily as she shimmied out of her cotton underwear and said, "My turn to make you feel good now, starlight."

"You don't have to, Quinn," Rachel murmured, shaking her head almost shyly as her naked girlfriend rose to her knees, trailing her fingers teasingly over Rachel's stomach to play with the waistband of her black lace panties. "If you're tired, or anything, we can just cuddle for a while..."

"I'm not tired," Quinn murmured against Rachel's lips, leaning in for a soft, teasing kiss. "I want to touch you, Rach...like we used to, before. I want to feel you writhe between my legs and scream my name. I want to be on top again."

"Are...are you sure?" Rachel asked breathlessly, eager but anxious at the same time. She'd gotten so used to protecting Quinn's body over the last few months, the idea of letting her strain herself now went against the grain and made the little starlet anxious and uneasy, even as her heart pounded in her chest and the heat pooled in her belly at the thought of her gorgeous girl climbing on top of her and _taking_ her again, like she used to.

"Very sure," Quinn murmured against Rachel's throat, nipping lightly at the smooth skin before she pushed the shorter girl gently back against the bed. Rachel went willingly, her body tingling with arousal as she laid back against the pillows, her dark hair fanning out around her and her heart thumping in time with the throbbing in her clit. Quinn knelt between Rachel's legs, hooking her fingers into the thin black lace and gently pulling them down her girlfriend's long legs. Rachel lifted her legs and bent her knees to make it easier, and Quinn smiled a satisfied, devilish smile when she saw the slippery shine of wetness coating the baby-soft skin of Rachel's inner thighs.

"You're all worked up, aren't you," the blonde girl hummed, her voice soft and husky with pleasure as she knelt over her girlfriend's naked body, leaning on one hand while the other slipped lightly into the warmth between Rachel's legs. "You've been so patient and sweet with me, little star…I'm gonna make it up to you now, baby. Would you like that?"

"Yes," Rachel whimpered, her voice quivering with raw need as she looked up into the blonde girl's smoky hazel eyes, locked lovingly onto her own. "Oh, yes, my angel…" Quinn leaned down and gently pressed her weight on top of Rachel's, their legs slipping against each other's centers as warm skin met everywhere, belly to belly, breast to breast. Quinn swallowed Rachel's sob of pleasure with a deep, plundering kiss, both of them lost in each other as the world fell away, and their animal desire for each other took over.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Quinn asked gently as she pulled away, wiping the streaming tears from Rachel's flushed face with her thumb. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"Nu-uh," Rachel shook her head, a heartbreaking smile on her lips as she sniffled back her tears. "Just…missed you so much…I was so scared we were never gonna get to feel like this again…I love you so much, Quinn…" The little starlet snaked her hands into her girlfriend's soft blonde hair, holding her tight by the back of the neck, and pulled her down for another kiss, deeper and more urgent than the first.

"Me too, baby," Quinn agreed, panting between kisses as she settled her weight comfortably on top of the smaller girl, rocking together so they could feel every inch of each other's skin, Rachel's hands gripping Quinn's hips to pull her closer, tighter, as if she could pull the other girl so close they'd share the same skin. "I missed this so fucking much Rach, my body was so lonely without you…" They were both crying now, beside themselves with the joy of feeling each other, their bodies alive and electric in a way they'd been missing terribly for three long months. They'd had sex since the accident of course, but not like this—it always had to be gentle, so gentle, and Rachel was always holding back, terrified to let put too much strain on her girlfriend's battered body. Quinn, of course, had only been on the bottom throughout her long recovery; and even that might not have been so bad if she could've moved her legs more, bent her knees and spread herself open to her girlfriend's lithe body the way she liked best. They'd done the best they could with Quinn's limited mobility and the delicate healing scars over her ribs and torso; but it wasn't the same. Not like this.

Quinn dropped her head against Rachel's throat, breathing hard against her pulse point as she snaked a hand between their sweat-slicked bodies to find the center of Rachel's wet heat. Rachel spread her legs to make it easier, giving Quinn a better angle, while one of her own hands left the blonde girl's hips to slip between their entwined legs. She found her mark easily, letting her fingers slip and slide around Quinn's swollen clit while her own throbbed with pleasure under the blonde girl's questing fingers.

"Oh God, Quinn, oh, fuck," Rachel moaned, arching her back so more of her throat was exposed to her girlfriend's nibbling teeth and tongue. "I want your teeth on me," the little starlet growled, her voice almost a snarl of primal desire as she gave her command.

"I know you do," Quinn murmured huskily, well versed in Rachel's rough side when it came to sex, especially her fondness for love bites. It wasn't an everyday activity, necessarily, but after the long hiatus they'd had from any kind of sex but the sweet and gentle kind, Quinn was fully expecting her little gold star to be thirsty for her teeth. "Where should I mark you, hmm baby?" The blonde girl nipped her way across her girlfriend's throat, ending up at the spot where Rachel's pulse fluttered beneath the soft, sweet skin. "Here?" she nipped again, a little harder, but still teasing.

"Yes!" Rachel gasped, her back arching hard against Quinn's trembling body, pressing both their hands more firmly into each other's warmth and wetness with the motion of their bodies. The blonde girl felt a twinge of pain shoot across her ribcage, but she didn't say anything, unwilling to stop what she was doing or distract her girlfriend from their current activities. She rolled her weight slightly onto her right hip, taking the pressure off her sore ribs, and dug her teeth into the smooth skin of Rachel's throat, sucking the soft flesh into her mouth and fluttering her tongue against it while her teeth clamped down. Rachel shrieked her approval, grinding her leg against Quinn's center with her fingers trapped deliciously between them, the heel of her hand pressed flush against the blonde girl's throbbing clit.

Quinn made a snarling, animal sound in the back of her throat, keeping her teeth locked around Rachel's soft skin as she slipped three fingers all the way inside, as deep as she could, the way Rachel liked it. The dark-haired girl moaned in ecstasy, babbling incoherently as they drove each other to the very brink, and tumbled over the edge together, panting and shaking with their shared release.

"Oh my sweet God in heaven, Quinn…you've been saving that up for a _while_, huh?" Rachel sighed blissfully, grinning like an idiot as she trailed her sticky fingers absently up her girlfriend's spine.

"Mm-hmm," Quinn agreed, kissing the red and purple hickey she'd left above her girlfriend's collarbone, and snuggling up to her with a soft sigh of satisfaction. "Told you I was ready."

"I've never been happier to admit you were right," Rachel hummed woozily, the glaze of euphoria still shining in her dark eyes as she slipped a hand below Quinn's jawline, urging her up for a kiss. The blonde girl went up on her elbow, lifting her head to meet her girlfriend's soft lips; but the motion sent another sharp jab through her ribcage, and without the adrenalin coursing through her system to keep the pain at bay, she winced and pressed a hand to the jagged scar over her left side.

Rachel's blissed-out expression sharpened in an instant at Quinn's soft gasp of pain, and she half sat up under the blonde girl's weight, her hand automatically covering Quinn's own over her ribs as the instinct to protect her angel from pain reared up fiercely inside her. "What's wrong, Quinnie? Did I hurt you? Is it your ribs? Do you need a pain pill?"

"It's not you, Rach, you didn't do anything wrong," Quinn groaned, dropping her weight back against her girlfriend's warm body as the stab of pain passed. "It's just a cramp, that's all. The doctor did say that broken ribs are notoriously slow to heal. But it's okay, it's already gone. I'm fine…and I love you." They beamed at each other, and Rachel slowly rubbed her thumb across the dull pink scar marring Quinn's ribs, leaning in to share a sweet, soft, lazy kiss.

"I love you too, angel face…so much, it hurts."

"I don't want to make you hurt," Quinn teased, biting her lip as she crawled backwards down Rachel's body, settling between her girlfriend's long, slender legs, and hooking them over her shoulders. "Let me make it all better, baby…" They kept each other up half the night, and for the first time either of them could remember, they came to school the next day without any homework done whatsoever.

…..

Quinn had been back on her feet for just two weeks when they boarded the bus for nationals, with Coach Sylvester and Coach Beiste in tow. The energy on the bus was electric; this was their year, their final year to go all the way as a team before half of them graduated, and they were so keyed up they didn't stop singing the entire five hour trip. Compared to this time last year, when they'd been scrambling to write new songs, choreograph and rehearse the numbers days before the competition, they were in the best shape they'd ever been. So much so, that when they arrived at the hotel with three days of free time ahead of them, no one even thought of suggesting more rehearsal time. Instead, they bounced around the city on wings of excitement, visiting Wrigley Field and the Sears Tower, the tallest building in the United States at 1,729 feet, as Artie cheerfully informed them in the dizzying elevator ride. They took the El to the Navy Pier and eagerly piled into the large water taxi for a harbor tour; and that was when Mercedes started to feel sick to her stomach.

Sam bought her a ginger ale and said she was probably just a little seasick, but by the time they got back to the hotel, Mercedes was ash-pale and sweating, and she bolted to the bathroom just in time to avoid throwing up on anyone. Tina and Sugar got Coach Sue to come help, but by the time she arrived it was clear that Mercedes wasn't going anywhere further than the distance from her bed to the bathroom anytime soon.

"Jesucristo, this team can't ever catch a damn break," Santana groaned, while Brittany pressed a cold washcloth to the sick girl's forehead. Coach Sue was ready to declare an Ebola outbreak before Mr. Schue arrived; but before things got out of hand, Mercedes pointed out that it was probably just food poisoning, since she'd gotten lunch on her own while the rest of them had gone to Chipotle.

"All right, Mercedes, you're on bed rest," Mr. Schue commanded when he saw the thermometer readout of 101.2. "Quinn, you're gonna need to step in and learn Mercedes' part. Think you can handle it?"

"Are you kidding?" Quinn squeaked, all the color draining from her face as she stared up at him in horror. "I'm working my ass off just to keep up with the background moves. I can barely walk, remember?"

"I think you're underestimating your abilities, Quinn. And your team needs you," Mr. Schue said gravely, looking around at all their anxious faces. It was true that putting Quinn on the spot wasn't ideal; but all the strongest singers were already carrying featured roles in their competition set, so switching one of them in for Mercedes would mean even more changes in the choreography, which would mean more uncertainty and more last-minute changes.

"And I _know_ you can do more than walk, baby," Rachel smirked, causing Quinn to blush crimson when the others hooted appreciatively.

"Tina can help you, Quinn," Mr. Schue put a bracing hand on her shoulder in encouragement. "You'll split Mercedes' parts between you, how's that?" Quinn gulped, and nodded. She knew that nothing worth having ever came easy in this world…but why did _everything_ always have to be so hard?

"All right, mijas, let's get our asses downstairs," Santana said brusquely, nodding to the other girls as Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester fussed over Mercedes. "We can get in a couple hours' rehearsal time before dinner if we start right now." With anxious glances over their shoulders at their bedridden friend, the girls all filed out.

…..

By the time Mr. Schue came down to check on them that night, they'd been rehearsing for over four hours, with only a 30 minute break for dinner, and Quinn was black and blue from all the spills and stumbles she'd taken trying to learn Mercedes' part for Edge of Glory. One glance at their exhausted faces, and Mr. Schue knew they'd pushed themselves far enough for one night, and ordered them all up to bed. Mercedes had been given a private room, thank goodness, so the others didn't have to worry about disturbing her rest while they undressed and got ready for bed.

"You don't look so good, Q. You gonna be okay?" Santana asked suspiciously, eyeing the exhausted blonde girl as she climbed stiffly into her pajamas, wincing at the soreness in her abused muscles.

"I'm doing my best, San," Quinn sighed wearily, an edge of reproach in her voice.

"I know you are, querida. That's not what I asked. I asked if you're gonna be okay with this." Santana laid a gentle hand on her friend's back, taking note of Quinn's slight wince of pain at the light touch.

"Do I have a choice?" They all looked at each other uncomfortably. Then the door opened, and Rachel bustled in, a plastic bag from the nearest drug store hanging from her arm.

"All right, everyone, I know we've all had a hard day today, but please humor me and finish your bathroom routines quickly tonight," Rachel commanded, in full-on diva mode as she began unpacking supplies from the bag—bath salts, Tiger Balm, and several bottles of Gatorade in Quinn's favorite flavors. "Quinn's going to need a good long soak with these Epsom salts I just got if she's going to be able to dance again tomorrow, and before you all start complaining, I'd like to remind you that she's working ten times as hard as anyone else here after just regaining the use of her legs a few weeks ago."

"No argument here," Tina said with a grateful smile as she eyed all the supplies Rachel had laid out. "We're all in this together, and we can't win if Quinn's not at her best. Do whatever you have to do."

"Thanks, Tina," Quinn smiled back weakly, as the rest of the girls all nodded along.

"I'll abdicate my bathroom time on one condition," Santana agreed, eyebrow raised in a playful smirk. "No hanky-panky in there, you two. I'm giving you my shower time so you can soak your bruises, not for private kinky time, a'aight? If me and Britt have to be good, the same goes for you two."

"Like we'd do anything with all of you right on the other side of the door," Quinn snorted, rolling her eyes as a bright red blush rose in her cheeks.

"Hey, I've seen fresh hickeys on Thumbelina here every day this week," Santana smirked, thoroughly enjoying the blush spreading across both Quinn and Rachel's faces as they avoided each other's eyes. "Don't tell me she had a freak accident with a vacuum cleaner. I know hot action when I see it. It's all good, just save it for our victory celebration, okay chicas?" The smug Latina winked, and the rest of the girls just giggled as Rachel smiled shyly, taking Quinn's hand and leading her into the bathroom.

…..

Two days later, they were in the green room at nationals, nervous and perfectly coiffed in their cherry-red dresses and black suits as they gathered for their final show circle. Mercedes rallied and joined them, still a little weak and woozy, but definitely not in danger of barfing on stage, and they all cheered like maniacs when she joined them.

"Thank God, I'm off the hook," Quinn groaned in relief; but Mercedes just shook her head and said they were all gonna do it together, or not at all. The blonde girl was still anxious about some of the turns, but the supportive smiles of all her friends eased the knots in her stomach somewhat; though not nearly as much as her girlfriend's warm hand squeezing her own.

"You're going to be amazing…_we're_ going to be amazing," Rachel hummed softly, for Quinn's ears only as they bent their heads together. "Are you ready, angel?"

"I'm ready," Quinn nodded, cupping a hand to her girlfriend's face and pressing a quick kiss to her cherry-coated lips.

"Let's go get that trophy," Rachel beamed, squeezing Quinn's hand as they all filed out of the green room to take their places on stage; and by the end of the day, they were back on the bus to McKinley with a trophy that was bigger than Rachel's whole body. If they'd sung and shouted with excitement on the way there, it was nothing compared to the level of raucous celebration that took place on the trip back home to Lima. No matter what the world threw at them, food poisoning and car crashes and stiff competition be damned, they'd finally done it: they were coming home national champions.


	26. Commencement

Hello, Faberry fans!

I know this chap has been a bit delayed, but I hope you'll all find it worth the wait. I think part of me has been putting it off because I didn't want the story to be over! But, like with graduation itself, every ending is just a new beginning. I have several writing projects planned for the summer, none of which I am prepared to comment on at the moment; so for now, please enjoy this final chapter of the Faberry high school years. A big, fat, shiny gold star to all of you for being the best readers ever!

Xoxo,

—JW

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Season 3**

**Chapter 26: Commencement**

…

The Glee kids were huddled around the warm glow of a campfire, fireflies blinking dreamily off and on in the cool midnight air. They weren't doing anything in particular; toasting marshmallows, drinking beer, singing along with Puck as he strummed a meandering tune on his guitar. The school year was over; they'd won their national championship, they'd proven themselves once and for all—to their school, the world, but mostly to themselves. Classes were finished, and in the morning, nine of them would be graduating, passing on the mantle of top show choir in the country to the underclassmen, to guard and uphold their legacy.

But tonight, they weren't thinking about national championships, or awards, or their dazzling futures. Tonight, they were only thinking about each other, as the reality that they'd soon be going their separate ways finally forced them all to acknowledge that things were about to change forever.

"I feel like we should make a pact, or something," Kurt grinned sadly, leaning back against Blaine's shoulder as he looked wistfully around at all his friends, their faces soft and delicate in the fire's warm glow. "To meet back at this spot once a year, or…I don't know, some kind of epic promise that we won't lose touch with each other's lives."

"But we will lose touch, Kurt," Mercedes said gently, squeezing Sam's hand as he looked at her sadly. "Not all of us, I know, and not right away—but it's part of growing up and starting our lives out there in the world, isn't it? We can't hold onto this moment forever…that doesn't make it less special. It makes it _more_ special."

"Truth," Santana agreed quietly, nestled snugly between Brittany and Quinn, who was leaning back against Rachel, who was in turn leaning against Blaine. They'd always been an affectionate group, but never more so than now; it was a manic, unsettling sort of feeling, the fear of missing even a single moment of their precious time together, as a team that felt more like a family.

"Three years ago when we got started with glee, I pretty much hated all of you," the Latina admitted with a wry smile, looking around the campfire at all her friends. "Well, except for my blondies, here," she nuzzled Brittany's shoulder, and poked Quinn playfully in the stomach, making her giggle. "We only joined glee 'cuz Coach Sue made us…so we could spy on Mr. Schue for her, and make sure the Cheerios stayed on top. When I think back on the girl I was then, so confident that I knew everything about everything, and that nothing outside Cheerios could be worthwhile…it's like I'm looking back on this whole other person, like a little sister I took care of a long time ago."

"I know what you mean," Quinn agreed softly, smiling sadly as she laced her fingers together with Rachel's over her stomach. "When I joined glee, I was still trying so hard to be the daughter my parents wanted…I'd never even _attempted_ to be myself, and I honestly didn't even know how. But you guys were always there for me, even when I made such a huge mess of things…and you each taught me something precious about living for myself, instead of for some script of what I thought the world expected of me. God only knows who I'd be right now without all of you." There was a soft chorus of agreement following Quinn's words, and Rachel hugged her close and planted a few soft kisses on her girlfriend's rosy cheek.

"Heck, I wouldn't even be _graduating _if it weren't for all you freakshows," Puck chuckled good-naturedly, giving them all a small nod of appreciation as his fingers plucked absently on the guitar strings. "And I definitely wouldn't be heading off to LA to start my own business…never thought I'd amount to much of anything, before this. But being part of this group, learning that I can be awesome at something…that's what gave me the confidence to think I could do something real with my life."

"You can do anything you want with your life, Noah," Rachel smiled quietly; and though it may have been a trick of the firelight, she could've sworn she saw him blush. "And I know we'll all be leaving soon, and things will never be the same again, but…I want to make a promise to all of you, right now, that I have absolutely no qualms about keeping." She smiled serenely around at all her friends, soaking up their love and acceptance, and knowing that it wouldn't change even if she never saw them again after tomorrow. It was sad, but somehow it felt like the good kind of sad.

"I promise," Rachel pronounced as she looked across the campfire, "that when I make it big, and Quinn and I are rolling in cash and success, the very first frivolous purchase we'll make will be a fabulous vacation house somewhere, where we'll throw a big, enormous glee reunion party every summer, and you're all invited forever." Amidst the playful cheering from the group, Quinn sat up a little against Rachel's warm body, turning and raising her eyebrows playfully at her girlfriend's wistful expression.

"Well I guess that's that, then," Quinn murmured, her fingers trailing absently over Rachel's knee.

"That okay with you, angelcake?" The little starlet asked, grinning shyly as she leaned in and tucked a lock of sleek blonde hair back behind her girlfriend's ear.

"A fabulous vacation house filled with all our best friends, forever? Yeah, I think I can handle that," Quinn nodded, beaming as she leaned in and gave Rachel a soft, unhurried kiss. Then Puck wolf-whistled, and the two girls broke apart, smiling shyly at each other. "Just remember, you asked for it," Quinn murmured, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at her blushing girlfriend. "Now pass me another marshmallow."

…

It was past 3am when Quinn and Rachel slipped in the back door of the Berry house, and tiptoed upstairs to bed. Exhaustion warred with nervous excitement as they stripped off their clothes and crawled into bed together, kissing and cuddling and crying a little at the idea of saying goodbye to almost everyone and everything familiar in the morning, to begin a brand new adventure in their next phase of life together.

"Rach?" Quinn murmured softly, her fingers trailing lazily through her girlfriend's dark hair in the moonlight.

"Mm-hmm," Rachel murmured, too close to sleep to bother opening her eyes.

"Tonight, when you told everyone we'd buy them a vacation house…you really meant it, didn't you?"

"Mm-hmm," the little starlet agreed, yawning softly against Quinn's shoulder as she snuggled down more deeply into the blankets.

"Do you think that'll happen before we have kids…or after?"

"Why…do you always want to talk about these things…when I'm sleeping?" Rachel sighed, rubbing her thumb absently across her girlfriend's smooth stomach under the blankets.

"You're not sleeping," Quinn teased softly, the smile evident in her voice even through the darkness. "You're still talking to me."

"Mm…sleep-talking," Rachel mumbled, nuzzling her face drowsily into Quinn's shoulder. "Go to sleep, baby…we're graduating tomorrow…"

"Gee, now why would _that_ make it hard for me to sleep?" Quinn asked pointedly, a slight pouty edge creeping into her voice. Rachel sighed, and propped her head up in one hand, finally giving in and opening her eyes as she smiled sleepily at her girlfriend's anxious face in the moonlight.

"Do you want to practice your Valedictorian speech one more time, sunshine?"

"No," Quinn shook her head, returning the starlet's sleepy smile and reaching out a hand to stroke her hair. "I'm not nervous about that…"

"Then what are you nervous about, hmm baby?" Rachel asked patiently, half-stifling a yawn.

"Just…everything," Quinn sighed quietly, shaking her head. "Or maybe I'm _not_ nervous, it's something different…like the feeling I get in my stomach when we're about to go on stage, but times, like, a thousand. Like my whole body knows that something huge is about to happen, and life will never be the same again. It's not like I _want_ to stay in high school forever, it's just…"

"Hard to say goodbye," Rachel finished for her, with a sad little smile.

"Have you ever felt really, really happy and really, really sad at the same time?" The blonde girl asked in a small voice, twirling a lock of Rachel's long hair around her finger.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, lacing her fingers together with her girlfriend's and pressing them to her cheek. "That's how I felt when you first woke up after the accident." Quinn nodded, her eyes filling up with exhausted, bittersweet tears that spilled over and ran down her cheeks. "Aw, sweet girl…I understand," Rachel murmured, leaning in and pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to the blonde girl's warm lips. "Saying goodbye is hard…we've built an amazing life here together. But we're not leaving it _all _behind…Kurt and Brittany and Santana will be in New York with us next fall, and in another year Blaine will come, and we'll be a big family, just like we are now."

"Yeah," Quinn agreed, sniffling softly. Rachel sighed, a sleepy smile stealing across her face as she smoothed a few locks of messy blonde hair back from her girlfriend's face.

"You want me to tell you another story about our future, hmm baby?"

"Yeah," Quinn agreed, smiling weakly through her tears. "Just a short one, and then I promise I'll go to sleep, Rach."

"Okay," Rachel yawned, settling back down snugly against the pillows. "Well...after I win my first Tony, that's when we'll really start becoming upwardly mobile. I'll get a movie deal that will allow us to buy our first place in the city, and then you'll start your own private practice on the Upper West Side, which will more than take care of all our college savings for our future children."

"I'm not gonna be a doctor, Rachel," Quinn mumbled sleepily against the pillow; but Rachel blithely ignored her and continued on with her story.

"Once those things are taken care of, we'll be ready to buy our beach house on Fire Island. We'll argue a bit about the design, because I love that sleek modern minimalist look, but you'll want something with some history and character…and in the end we'll find an amazing old Victorian with six bedrooms, plus an annex, and that will be that."

"Mm…it's pretty," Quinn murmured, eyes closed as she snuggled closer to Rachel and snaked an arm around her hips.

"Mm-hmm," Rachel agreed with a yawn, her own eyes growing very heavy. "The first summer we spend there will be after we have our first baby…"

"Zoe," Quinn sighed, a soft smile creeping across her face.

"That's right, angel," Rachel crooned, finally letting her eyes fall shut, too. "And that'll be the first summer of our glee reunion parties, too. Brittany and Santana and Kurt and Blaine will come up almost every weekend anyway, since it's so close to the city; but everyone else will arrive for the 4th of July, and stay for two weeks after that. Noah will spend all day trying to teach us all to surf, and Mike and Tina will bring their kids to play with Zoe…"

"Like a family," Quinn murmured, her voice growing faint and heavy with sleep now.

"Mm-hmm," Rachel agreed, with a final soft yawn as her consciousness began to slip away. "Just…like a family."

…

"Ladies and gentlemen, the graduates!" Jacob proclaimed ceremoniously as Quinn and Rachel stumbled into the kitchen in their pajamas, to find a full-on celebratory breakfast spread across the table, with chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled tofu (for Rachel) and eggs (for everyone else), a mountain of fresh strawberries, and a platter of crisp bacon that made Quinn's eyes light up like Christmas morning.

"Good morning," she smiled shyly, rubbing her eyes and going to hug her two surrogate dads, along with her mom, who must've arrived before they'd even woken up.

"We're so proud of you girls," Judy squealed breathlessly, hugging Quinn and then Rachel, and then Quinn again.

"Mom, you're squishing me," Quinn whined, still eyeing the bacon over her mother's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby, go ahead and get some breakfast. This is your day, I want you to have everything exactly as you want it," Judy beamed, taking her seat beside Michael, the two of them practically radiating pride and excitement as Jacob bustled around filling everyone's cups with mimosas.

"Are you really giving us booze? At eight in the morning?" Rachel asked, taking an experimental sip from her fluted glass. "Oh, _yummm_."

"You're adults now, you've earned it," Jacob winked, ruffling his daughter's long hair and kissing her on the cheek. "Just one glass, though, to keep your wits about you. We can't have our Valedictorian falling off the stage." Quinn snorted with laughter, and Jacob gave her a little wink.

"Yeah, I think I've given this town more than enough embarrassing stories already, thanks," she chuckled, but she took the flute Jacob offered her and kissed his cheek. "To our first day of adulthood," she said with a smile, raising her glass to Rachel's with a little _clink_.

"To the graduates!" Michael beamed, raising his own glass as Jacob and Judy followed suit.

"Thanks for making this awesome breakfast," Quinn added as she sat down, grabbing a plate and helping herself to all her favorite things, including an extra-large pile of bacon.

"Yes, thank you," Rachel agreed cheerfully, taking the seat beside her girlfriend and accepting a stack of pancakes.

"If I thought it would keep you at home forever, I'd feed you pancakes and mimosas every day for the rest of your life, pumpkin," Jacob winked, with a sad little smile.

"Cue the violins," Rachel sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes.

"Aww, c'mon Rach, you can't blame them for missing us when we're gone," Quinn shrugged, a mischievous glint in her bright hazel eyes as she sipped her mimosa. "I mean, we fill their lives with meaning and purpose. Now they'll have to take up gardening or join the 4-H club."

"Actually, Tom and I are planning to do some traveling next year," Judy remarked in a would-be casual voice as she poured a dainty dollop of maple syrup on her pancakes. "Neither of us has ever been abroad, can you imagine? We're doing one of those house-swaps with a couple in the south of France for a few months, and then we'll travel all around Europe with those all-access rail passes. It's so exciting!" Jacob and Michael squealed with delight, but Quinn gave a little squawk of outrage.

"So strangers from another country are going to be living in our house?" She whined despondently. "What about Thanksgiving, and Christmas vacation?"

"Well I just assumed you'd stay here with the Berrys, sweetheart," Judy shrugged, nudging her daughter's foot under the table. "And besides, it's only for a few months. Is it possible that you'll actually miss your old mother after all?" Quinn huffed and stuck out her lower lip in a pout; Rachel giggled and kissed her cheek.

"Aww, honey. It's okay, don't be embarrassed. Grown-ups are allowed to miss their moms, too."

"Ugh, fine," Quinn sighed, smirking at the three giggling Berrys. "I admit it—I'll miss you when you're on the other side of the ocean, Mom. But it really does sound amazing, and I'm glad you and Tom can see Europe together. But you better bring me back some cool presents, okay?"

"I think I can manage that," Judy smiled. "Now eat your pancakes, girls. We have a graduation ceremony to get to!"

…

Finn and Puck were whaling out Springsteen's "Glory Days" with the school band as all the seniors took the stage in their caps and gowns, hooting and high-fiving each other as their families cheered ecstatically in the audience. Figgins called them to order, and then Brittany took the podium to welcome everyone in her final act as senior class president. She was followed by Ms. Pillsbury, who approached the podium with a huge, beaming smile at the graduates, and a little wink for Quinn, who grinned nervously.

"The first time our valedictorian ever stepped into my office, it was to get advice about how to be cool again," the redheaded teacher began with a smile, making all the graduates chuckle with the long-ago memory of how different they'd all been four years ago, as freshmen. "I'm happy to say that her interests and dedication to academic excellence have grown in leaps and bounds since then. She's helped bring three consecutive national championships to the Cheerios…" a huge outburst of applause made the teacher pause momentarily, beaming out at the exuberant crowd. "And a first-ever national show choir championship for the New Directions, just weeks after stepping out of her wheelchair." The audience, and the senior class, went crazy with applause again, forcing Ms. Pillsbury to pause while Quinn blushed and hid her face behind her hands, everyone reaching out to pat her on the back at once.

"But that's just the beginning of our valedictorian's accomplishments in her four years at McKinley," Ms. Pillsbury went on. "She's a National Merit Scholar, a volunteer at the Lima Community Food Bank, and in the fall she'll be attending Columbia University on a full academic scholarship. All this while overcoming everything from teen pregnancy, to the terrible car crash this year that left her in a wheelchair until only a few weeks ago. I know I speak for the entire faculty and staff of McKinley High when I say we couldn't be more proud of this young lady, and everything we know she'll go on to do in her life. Ladies and gentlemen, your valedictorian, Quinn Fabray."

The auditorium erupted in frenzied applause as Quinn rose from her seat, pausing to hug Ms. Pillsbury fiercely before taking the podium, and waiting for the applause to die down. When they didn't, she laughed and raised her hands like a conductor, then slowly lowered them, palms down, silently asking the room for quiet.

"Wow, thank you so much, everyone," she shook her head, grinning shyly out at the beaming faces in the crowd. "I remember that first meeting I had with Ms. Pillsbury, too—and when I think back on the girl I was then, it's like remembering a completely different person. If I could sit fourteen-year-old Quinn down today and tell her she'd be graduating as Valedictorian, she'd be absolutely horrified." That made everyone chuckle a little, but they were past the point of hooting and hollering now; they wanted to hear her speak, and the ripple of laughter passed quickly.

"Fourteen-year-old Quinn only cared about how things looked on the outside; having the right clothes and the right boyfriend and the right extracurricular activities to be at the top of the popularity food chain. She didn't even know herself well enough to know if those were things she really cared about, because no one had ever _asked_ her what she really cared about." She paused, glancing over at her fellow graduates, her eyes locking on her girlfriend's dark chocolate gaze, full of love and pride for her; then she took a deep breath and looked back out at the audience.

"And then, thank God, something happened that threw that shallow little girl's life completely for a loop: she joined the glee club." Another ripple of laughter passed through the audience, but Quinn was hitting her stride now, and she didn't pause. "We didn't all get along at first. We were all so different, and we were trying so hard to be the people we thought we were supposed to be; but somewhere along the line, we became the people we _wanted _to be instead. And I don't think any of us ended up exactly where we expected. I certainly never expected to get pregnant at fifteen, or become our school's first openly gay prom queen…" A cheer floated up into the air, and Quinn's face blushed a little redder as she continued. "And I definitely never intended for anyone to find out I actually _liked_ school. I can tell you today that I wouldn't have gotten through _any_ of those things, let alone the car accident that nearly cost me my legs, if it weren't for the unfailing love and support of my friends and teachers in glee club, my mom and my two honorary dads…and my amazing, incredible girlfriend, Rachel Berry."

Quinn's eyes filled with tears as she turned and smiled at Rachel again, this time addressing her directly in front of all their classmates and families. "Rachel, you took me in when the entire world came crashing down around me, even though I'd never given you so much as a kind word since grade school. You made the world a safe place for the first time in my life, and you let me learn how to be myself without any pressure or expectations. Without you, I wouldn't be me—I can never find the words to tell you how amazing you are." Rachel's eyes were full of tears now, too—Quinn hadn't rehearsed this part in front of her—and the entire class stood up and cheered while the blonde girl took a moment to wipe her eyes and calm her breathing.

"There's no question that every one of us is a different person now than we were four years ago," Quinn smiled, turning back to the audience as the graduates settled down. "But I think we might've changed more than just ourselves—I think we really changed this place, too. By choosing to view our differences as strengths, rather than weaknesses, glee club taught us how much bigger and more amazing and exciting the world can be. And maybe because of that, next year's freshmen won't have to turn themselves inside out before they realize it's okay to just be yourself, do what you love, and that your real friends won't want it any other way."

"My prayer for all of us is that we'll keep the lessons we learned together close in our hearts when we leave here, and find our way in the world…because I promise you, McKinley class of 2012, we are leaving here with all the tools and all the knowledge we need to have amazing, brilliant and beautiful lives. Whether we're bound for college next year, or the Peace Corps, the army, or a thousand other new adventures, we are going to make this world a better place. So when you're out there, and you're feeling sad or scared or lonely because things aren't going according to plan, just remember—sometimes plans are made to be broken. Don't be afraid to color outside the lines. And always, _always_ dance like nobody's watching. Thank you, McKinley class of 2012!"

The auditorium erupted with cheers again as Quinn waved and exited the podium, going straight to Rachel, who was seated in the front row of the graduates, and kissing her right there in front of everyone. (They hadn't rehearsed that part, either.) It was several minutes before Figgins managed to restore order and begin actually handing out diplomas; but then the rest of the ceremony passed quickly, and before they knew it, the seniors were no longer seniors—they were high school graduates.

"Nice speech, Corny McSappypants," Santana said with a broad smile, nudging Quinn 's elbow as they all crowded together to get off the stage and out into the sunshine to celebrate. "You guys want a ride to Finn and Kurt's party? I heard there's gonna be a champagne fountain and live band karaoke."

"Yeah, I heard that too," Quinn smiled dazedly, her whole body still trembling with the adrenalin rush of her valedictorian speech. "But I think we need to make a little detour to Rachel's house before the party."

"A _big_ detour," Rachel corrected, coming up behind them and snaking her arm possessively around Quinn's waist, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "We'll get there eventually, plenty of time for champagne fountains and celebratory karaoke. We just have some private celebrating to do first." Quinn was already blushing bright red and beaming shyly at her girlfriend's wanton expression; Santana rolled her eyes to Brittany.

"Good to know some things never change, huh B?"

"Yeah. I think I'd be crying right now if we weren't all gonna be together in New York next year," Brittany replied with a bright smile of her own. "C'mon Santi, I wanna dance!" Laughing, Santana trailed after her girlfriend, leaving Quinn and Rachel to wade through the throng of classmates and well-wishers. Too overwhelmed to deal with fighting their way out of the crowd just yet, the little starlet wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's neck and pulled her close for another tender, adoring kiss.

"I am so proud of you," Rachel whispered, her breath warm and sweet on Quinn's face.

"I'm so proud of _us,"_ Quinn murmured back, dipping her head to steal another kiss, a little deeper and a little longer than the last. Rachel whimpered softly into her mouth, pulling her closer and raking a hand through her girlfriend's soft blonde hair, knocking off her graduation cap. A hoot of encouragement arose behind them, and they broke apart giggling.

"Aww, c'mon Quinn! You ruined my shot," Puck complained, holding out his phone as he attempted to snap a picture of his two friends making out. "Pretend I'm not even here, okay? Do the whole, 'dance like nobody's watching' thing, but with some extra tongue this time." Too buzzed with giddy adrenalin to really be annoyed, they both just patted him on the head and kissed him on the cheek.

"See you at the party, Noah. Right now, we have our own private party to get to." Lost in their own little world, Quinn and Rachel shared a shy smile, linking their hands together as they slipped out of the crowded auditorium, and walked out into the bright sunlight that awaited them.


End file.
